r 


V 


UNivs-  5:ty  of 

CALIFOR-NIA 
SAN  DIE«0 


■It 


^. 


History  of  Philosophy 


BY 

ALFRED   WEBER 

PROFESSOR    IN    THE    L'NIVEKSITY    OF    STRASBUKQ 


^utf)orijeti  ^Translation 


FRANK   THILLY,  A.M.,  Ph.D. 

PBOFE8SOR  OF   PHILOSOPHY    IN    THE   UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOURI 


FROM   THE    FIFTH   FRENCH   EDITION 


V^^gvy 


NEW    YORK 

CHARLES  SCRIBNKR'S   SONS 

1901 

[All  riyhts  retei-ved] 

100 

^3  6 

LI  B  lyAR  Y 

S  C  R  I  P  P  S    ly'^S  t\  T  U  T  I  O  N 
OF   OC2ANOGRA,PHY 
UNlVER^Si;»V  OF  CALIFORNIA 
ft.LA.  CALIFOJ^IA 


Copyricjhf,  1,996, 
By  Chaklks  Scribnkk's  Sons. 


John  Wilson  and  Son.  Cambkidoe,   U.S.A. 


TRANSLATOR'S   PREFACE 

There  is,  in  my  opinion,  no  book  so  admirably  fitted  for 
acquainting  the  student  with  the  development  of  thought 
as  the  able  work  of  Professor  Weber  of  the  University  of 
Strasburo-.  The  author  combines  in  his  person  the  best 
elements  of  French  and  German  scholarship.  His  knowl- 
edge of  the  subject  is  thorough  and  extensive,  his  judgment 
sound,  his  manner  of  expression  simple,  clear,  and  precise. 
His  expositions  remind  one  vividly  of  Kuno  Fischer's  fas- 
cinating presentation  of  philosophical  teachings.  They 
reproduce  the  essential  thoughts  of  the  great  masters  in 
language  which  is  singularly  free  from  obscurities  and  un- 
defined technical  terms.  The  different  systems  are  not 
mechanically  joined  together  like  so  many  dominos ;  the 
history  of  philosophy  is  not  conceived  as  an  aggregate  of 
isolated,  disconnected  theories,  but  as  an  evolution,  as  a 
more  or  less  logical  development,  as  a  process  from  the 
simple  to  the  complex.  It  is  not  a  comedy  of  errors,  a 
Sisyphus  labor,  a  series  of  mighty  efforts  and  corresponding 
failures,  but  a  gradual  advance  towards  truth.  There  are 
differences  and  contradictions,  it  is  true,  and  many  devia- 
tions from  the  ideal  straight  line  which  the  historian, 
overlooking  the  entire  course  of  development,  may  draw 
between  the  beginning  and  the  end.  Pliih)sophy  often 
follows  false  paths  and  loses  itself  in  l»Iind  alle3^s.  Yet 
this  does  not  mean  that  it  is  a  wild-goose  chase. 


iv  PREFACE 

We  have  long  wanted  a  text-book  of  tlie  liistoiy  of  phi- 
losopliy  that  covers  the  whole  field,  and  presents  the  subject 
in  a  manner  suited  to  the  needs  of  the  beginner.  Zeller's 
admirable  compendium  of  Greek  philosophy  and  Falcken- 
berg's  History  of  Modem  Philosophy  deal  with  special 
periods.  Windelband's  voluminous  History  of  Philosophy^ 
with  its  arbitrary  divisions  and  unfortunate  method  of  cut- 
ting up  a  system  into  parts  and  discussing  these  separately, 
under  entirely  different  heads,  hopelessly  confuses  the  stu- 
dent. Besides,  its  account  of  philosophy  since  the  days  of 
Kant — a  period  in  which  our  age  is  especially  interested  — 
is  wholly  inadequate.  Professor  Weber's  work  is  the  most 
serviceable  manual  thus  far  published.  It  begins  as  simply 
as  the  history  of  philosophy  itself,  and  gradually  introduces 
the  reader  to  the  complex  problems  of  modern  thought,  to 
wliich  it  devotes  more  than  one-half  of  its  entire  space. 
The  portions  dealing  with  Kant  and  his  successors  are 
particularly  admirable.  The  clear  and  comprehensive  ex- 
position of  the  Hegelian  philosophy  will  greatly  assist  the 
student  in  his  endeavors  to  understand  that  much  abused 
system.  And  the  modern  theory  of  evolution,  wliich  has 
revolutionized  the  thought  of  our  century,  and  which  is 
barely  mentioned  by  Falckenberg  and  Windelband,  surely 
deserves  the  attention  and  criticism  it  here  receives. 

This  translation  is  made  from  the  fifth  French  edition 
(1892),  and  includes  a  number  of  changes  and  additions 
which  the  author  kindly  communicated  to  me  in  manu- 
script. I  have  taken  pains  to  render  the  original  into  clear 
and  simple  English,  and  to  increase  the  usefulness  of  the 
book  wherever  it  seemed  possible  and  proper  to  do  so,  al- 
ways keeping  in  mind  the  demands  of  the  readers  for  whom 
the   work   is   intended.     All  material  inserted  by  me  is 


PREFACE  V 

placed  in  square  brackets.  I  have  increased  the  bibliog- 
raphy (1)  by  adding  the  titles  of  standard  American,  Eng- 
lish, German,  Frencli,  and  Italian  works ;  (2)  by  mentioning 
translations  of  foreign  books  referred  to  in  the  text  and 
notes ;  (3)  by  giving  the  names  of  important  philosoph- 
ical journals  published  in  tliis  country  and  abroad ;  (4)  by 
placing  at  the  end  of  the  volume  a  list  of  the  best  modern 
works  on  logic,  epistemology,  psychology,  anthropology, 
ethics,  aesthetics,  the  philosophy  of  history,  the  philosophy 
of  religion,  jurisprudence,  politics,  etc.  I  have  also  pre- 
pared an  index. 

FRANK  THILLT, 

University  of  Missouri, 
May,  1896. 


CONTENTS 


INTRODUCTION 

Paob 

§  1.    Philosophy,  Metaphysics,  and  Science 1 

§  2.     Division •       ^ 

§  3.     Sources 0 


I.     GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

THE  AGE   OF  METAPHYSICS  PROPER,  OR  PHILOSOPHY 
OF  NATURE 

(b.  c.  COO-400) 

§  4.    The  Origin  of  Greek  Philosophy 17 

§  5.     The    School    of    Miletus.     Thales,   Anaximander, 

axaximenes 21 

§  6.    The  Problem  of  Becoming 24 

A.  The  Negation  of  Becoming 

§  7.    Eleatic     Philosophy.       Xexophanes,    Parmenides, 

Melissus,  Zexo,  Gokgias 24 

B.  The  Apotheosis  of  Becoming 

§  8.     ITeraclitu8 33 


Viii  CONTENTS 

C.     The  Explanation  of  Becoming 

Page 

§    9.     The  Pythagorean  Speculation ^7 

§  10.     Empedocles 44 

§  11.     Anaxagoras */ 48 

§  12.     Diogenes  of  Apollonia,  Archelaus,  Leucippus,  De- 

mocritus         53 


THE  AGE  OF  CRITICISM,  OR  PHILOSOPHY  OF  MIND 

§  13.    Protagoras o9 

§  14.    Socrates ...  63 

§  15.    Aristippus  and  Hedonism.  —  Antisthenes  and  Cyni- 
cism.—  Euclides  and  the  School  of  Megara    .  71 

A.     The  Negation  of  Matter.  —  The  Apotheosis  of  Thought 

§  16.    Plato 75 

(1)  The  Idea 81 

(2)  Nature 91 

(3)  The  Highest  Good 98 

§  17.    Aristotle 1*^4 

(1)  First  Philosophy 108 

(2)  Second    Philosophy,   or  the    Philosophy   of 

Nature 118 

B.     The  Apotheosis  of  Matter.  —  The  Negation  of  the 
Thought- Substance 

§  18.    Epicurus 134 

C.     The  Apotheosis  of  Will 

§  19.    Stoicism 140 

§20.     The  Sceptical  Reaction.  —  Pyrrhonism      ....  148 

§  21.    Academic  Scepticism 150 


CONTENTS  IX 

Page 

§  22.     Sensationalistic  Scepticism 152 

§  23.     The  Scientific  Movement 159 

§  24.     Eclecticism 162 

§  25.    Plotinus  and  Xeo-Platoxism 167 

§  26.    The  Last  Neo-Platonic  Polvtheists.  —  Porphyry, 

Jaaiblichus,  Proclus 179 


II.     PHILOSOPHY   OF   THE   MIDDLE  AGES 


THE   REIGN  OF  PLATONIC-CHRISTIAN  THEOLOGY 

§  27.    Christian  Platonism 18y 

§  28.    St.  Augustine 188 

§  29.     The   Death    Struggles   of    the   Roman  World. — 
Barbarism.  —  The   First    Symptoms   of  a  New 

Philosophy 198 

§  30.    Scholasticism 201 

§  31.     ScoTus  Erigena 204 

§  32.     St.  Anselmus 210 

§  33.     Realism  and  Xominalism 219 

§  34.     Abelard 222 

§  35.    Hugo  of  St.  Victor 227 

§  36.    The  Progress  of  Free  Thought 230 


THE  REIGN  OF  PERIPATETIC  SCHOLASTICISM 

A.     Semi-Reallsttc  Penpateticism 

§  37.     Growing  Influence  of  the  Philosophy  of  Aristotle  235 

§  38.     The  Tekipatetics  of  the  Thiktkenth  Century      .  239 

§  .39.     St.  Thomas  of  \iiv\s 241 

S  40.     Duns  SctjTus 246 


X.  CONTENTS 

B.    Nominalistic  Peripateticism 

Txas 

§  41.  The  Reappearaxce  of  Nominalism.  —  Dukand,  Oc- 
cam, BURIDAN,  D'AlLLY 252 

§42.  The  Downfall  of  Scholasticism.  —  The  Revival 
OF  THE  Interest  in  Nature  and  Experimental 
Science.  —  Roger  Bacon.  —  Mysticism   ....    256 

§  43.     The  Revival  of  Letters 261 

§44.     Neo-Platonism.  —  Theosophy. — Magic 265 

§  45.  Aristotle  versus  Aristotle,  or  the  Liberal  Peri- 
patetics. —  Stoics.  —  Epicureans.  —  Sceptics     .    267 

§  46.     The  Religious  Reform 274 

§  47.    Scholasticism  and  Theosophy  in  the  Protestant 

Countries. — Jacob  Bohme 277 

§  48.    The  Scientific  Movement 281 


III.     MODERN   PHILOSOPHY 

THE   AGE   OF  INDEPENDENT   METAPHYSICS 

(From  Bruno  to  Locke  and  Kant) 

§  49.    Giordano  Bruno 286 

§  50.     ToMMASO  Campanella 291 

§  51.     Francis  Bacon 295 

§  52.     Thomas  Hobbes ,300 

§  53.     Descartes 305 

§  54.     The  Cartesian  School 317 

§  55.     Spinoza 323 

I.     Definitions 325 

II.     Deductions 326 

(1)  Theory  of  Substance 326 

(2)  Theory  of  Attributes 329 

(3)  Theory  of  Modes 334 

S  56.    Leibniz 343 


CONTEXTS  XI 

THE   AGE   OF   CRITICISM 

Page 

§  57.    John-  Locke •  370 

§  58.     Berkeley 391 

§  59.     CONDILLAC 399 

§  60.     The  Progress  of  Materialism 404 

§  61.     David  Hume 417 

§  62.     Immaxuel  Kant 434 

I.     Critique  of  Pure  Reason 437 

II.     Critique  of  Practical  Reason 462 

III.     Critique  of  Judgment 468 

§  63.     Kant  and  German  Idealism 473 

§  64.     Fichte .481 

§65.     SCIIELLING 487 

§  66.     Hegel 496 

I.     Logic,  or  Genealogy  of  Pure  Concepts      .  501 

II.     Philosophy  of  Nature 510 

III.     Philosophy  of  Mind 513 

§  67.     Herbart 535 

§  68.     Schopenhauer 544 

§  69.     Darwin  and  Contemporary  INIonism 560 

§  70.     Positivism  and  Xeo-Criticism 573 

§  71.     Conclusion 587 

Bibliography 605 


LvDEx 613 


HISTORY   (3F    PHILOSOPHY 

INTRODUCTION 

§  1.     Philosophy,  Metaphysics,  and  Science 

Philosophy  is  the  search  for  a  comprehensive  view  of 
nature,  an  attempt  at  a  universal  explanation  of  things.  It 
is  both  the  summaiy  of  the  sciences  and  their  completion ; 
both  general  science  and  a  specialty  distinguished  from 
science  proper ;  and,  like  its  elder  sisters,  religion  and  poe- 
try, forms  a  separate  branch  among  tlie  manifestations  of 
the  human  mind. 

The  different  sciences  have  special  groups  of  facts  for 
their  subject-matter,  and  seek  to  discover  the  causes  of  these 
phenomena,  or  to  formulate  the  laws  according  to  which 
they  are  produced.  In  philosophy,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
human  mind  endeavors  to  rise  beyond  such  groups  and 
their  particular  laws,  and  to  explain  the  world  as  a  whole, 
or  the  universal  fact  or  phenomenon^  by  the  cause  of  the 
causes,  or  the  fii-st  cause.  In  other  words,  it  attempts  to 
answer  the  question,  Why  does  this  world  exist,  and  how 
does  it  happen  to  be  what  it  is  ?  ^ 

'  As  a  searcli  for  the  first  cause,  pliilosophy  is  defined,  more  par- 
ticularly, as  melaphysics,  ontology,  or  apeculcitive  philosophy.  The  phil- 
osophy which  abandons  this  search,  and  contents  itself  with  being 
scientific  synthesis,  is  called  po.tilive  philosophy  or  positivivn.  Posi- 
tivism may  simply  be  groiinderl  upon  the  historical  fact  that  systems 
constantly  contradict  each  other,  in  which  case  it  rests  on  a  purely 
empirical  basis,  or  it  may  be  based  upon  the  rational  analysis  of  the 
human  understanding.  In  the  former  case,  it  is  scepticism,  in  the 
latter,  criticism.  Opposed  to  scepticism  we  have  dofjmatism,  that  is, 
the  naive  or  deliberate  belief  iu  the  ability  of  the  liiinian  mind  to 

1 


2  INTRODUCTION 

But  though  philosophy  has  its  own  subject-matter  and 
a  separate  sphere  of  its  own,  it  is  none  the  less  connected 
with  positive  science  by  the  closest  of  ties ;  and  science 
cannot  break  these  bonds  without  danger  to  itself.  It  is 
from  the  positive  sciences,  and  particularly  from  psychol- 
ogy and  allied  branches,  that  philosophy  derives  its  methods 
and  the  matter  for  its  systems.  The  sciences,  without  phil- 
osophy, are  an  aggregate  without  unity,  a  body  without  a 
soul;  philosophy,  without  the  sciences,  is  a  soul  without 
a  body,  differing  in  nothing  from  poetry  and  its  dreams. 
Science  is  the  indispensable  foundation  and  the  matter,  as 

reach  an  objective  knowledge  of  things  and  their  first  cause.  Ration- 
alism claims  to  arrive  at  this  knowledge  by  a  priori  reasoning ;  em- 
piricism assumes  no  other  method  than  observation  and  induction,  or 
a  posteriori  reasoning.  Pui'e,  or  a  priori,  speculation  is  the  method  pre- 
ferred by  idealism,  which  regards  thought  as  the  original  fact,  prior 
and  superior  to  all  reality.  Empiricism,  on  the  contrary,  is  based 
iipon  the  view  that  thought,  far  from  being  the  first  cause,  is  derived 
from  a  pre-existing  reality  ;  that  is,  upon  realism  in  the  modern  sense 
of  the  word.  (See  also  §  33.)  When  the  action  of  the  first  cause  is 
considered  unconscious  and  involuntary,  as  distinguished  from  teleo- 
logical  (or  making  for  an  end),  realism  becomes  materialism  and  mech- 
anism. Idealism  in  tm-n  becomes  spiritualism  when  it  personifies  the 
first  cause,  and  regards  it,  not  merely  as  an  idea  that  realizes  itself, 
but  also  as  a  heing  that  hovers  above  things  (supranaturalism,  transcen- 
dentalism') and  governs  them  according  to  its  free-will  (theism),  or  by 
means  of  unchangeable  laws  (deism)  ;  this  is  the  dualism  of  mind  and 
matter,  of  creator  and  nature,  as  opposed  to  pantheism,  naturalism,  or 
monism.  Pantheism,  naturalism,  or  monism  identifies  the  idea  of  cause 
with  the  concept  of  substance,  and  considers  the  first  cause  as  the 
innermost  substance  of  things  (immanency  of  God),  and  the  totality 
of  its  modes  or  phenomena,  the  universe,  as  a  living  unity  (monism), 
as  one  and  the  same  collective  being  governed  according  to  the  laws 
which  follow  from  its  own  nature  (natm'alism) .  Monism  is  either 
absolute  or  plural,  according  as  it  considers  the  cosmic  substance  as  an 
absolute  unity,  or  as  a  collection  of  irreducible  unities  ;  it  is  atomism 
or  dynamism,  according  as  these  imities  are  regarded  as  infinitely  small 
extensions  (atoms),  or  as  absolutely  unextended  centres  of  force  (dyna- 
mides  or  monads). 


PHILOSOPHY,  METAPHYSICS,  AND  SCIENCE  3 

it  were,  of  pliilosopliy ;  it  is,  to  use  an  Aristotelian  pkrase, 
potential  philosophy.  Philosophy,  in  turn,  is  science  in 
actu,  the  most  exalted  function  of  the  scholar,  the  supreme 
satisfaction  of  the  scientific  spirit  and  its  natural  tendency 
to  comprehend  everything  into  a  unity. 

Philosophy  and  science  are  intimately  related,  not  only 
in  essence  and  in  interests,  but  also  as  to  their  origin  and 
destiny.  Animated  by  the  same  all-powerful  instinct  to 
discern  the  causes  of  tilings  —  rerum  cognoscere  causas  — 
and  to  comprehend  them  into  the  unity  of  a  first  cause,  the 
human  mind  no  sooner  reaches  certain  elementary  truths 
in  physics,  mathematics,  and  morals,  than  it  hastens  to 
synthesize  them,  to  form  them  into  universal  theories, 
into  ontological  and  cosmological  systems,  i.  e.  to  philosO' 
pliize,  to  make  metaphysics.  It  makes  up  for  its  ignorance 
of  realit}^  either  by  means  of  the  imagination,  or  by  that 
wonderful  instinct  of  childhood  and  of  genius  which  divinea 
the  truth  without  searching  for  it.  This  accounts  for  the 
aprioristic,  idealistic,  and  fantastic  character  of  the  philoso- 
phy of  the  ancients,  as  well  as  for  its  incomparable  grandeur. 
In  proportion  as  our  stock  of  positive  knowledge  is  in- 
creased, as  scientific  labor  is  divided  and  consequently  de- 
veloped, philosophy  becomes  more  and  more  differentiated 
from  poetry;  its  methods  are  recognized,  its  theories  gain  in 
depth  what  the  sciences  acquire  in  scope.  Every  scientific 
movement  gives  rise  to  a  philosophical  movement ;  every 
new  philosophy  is  a  stimulus  to  science.  Though  this  bond 
of  union  seems  to  have  Ijeen  ruptured  during  the  Middle 
Ages,  the  breach  is  but  an  apparent  one.  Whatever  hostil- 
ity or  indifference  is  manifested  towards  science,  comes  from 
the  official  pliilos()])hy  of  the  School ;  it  is  never  found  among 
the  independent  philosophers,  l)e  they  Christians,  Jews,  or 
Arabians.  Tliere  may  be  as  much  opposition  between  sci-. 
ence  and  a  certain  pliilosopliy  in  the  nineteenth  century  as 
there  was  in  the  times  of  Roger  Bacon  and  Lord  Verulam. 


4  INTRODUCTION 

True  science  and  true  philosopliy  have  always  been  in  perfect 
accord,  and  though  there  may  be  a  sembhmce  of  rivalry, 
their  relations  are  to-day  as  harmonious  as  tliey  can  be.^ 

§  2.     Division 

To  the  Ionian  Greeks  belongs  the  honor  of  having  crea- 
ted 2  European  pliilosophy ;  to  the  Neo-Latins  and  the  Ger- 
mans, that  of  having  given  to  it  its  modern  development. 

Hence  there  are,  in  the  history  to  be  outlined  by  us,  two 
great  and  wholly  distinct  epochs,  which  are  connected  by 
the  Middle  Ages  (period  of  transition). 

1  [On  the  nature  and  import  of  pliilosophy,  and  its  relation  to 
other  sciences,  consult  Ladd,  Introduction  to  Philosojihy,  New  York, 
1891 ;  Volkelt,  Vortriige  zur  Einfiihrung  in  die  Philosophie  der  Gegen- 
wart,  Munich,  1892;  Paulsen,  Einleitung  in  die  Philosophie,  3d  ed., 
Berlin,  1895 ;  English  translation  by  Frank  Thilly,  New  York,  1895. 
-Tr.] 

2  By  this  word  we  do  not  mean  to  imply  the  absolute  originality  of 
Hellenic  philosophy.  The  influence  exercised  upon  its  development 
by  the  Orient  cannot  be  doubted.  There  is  no  trace  of  philosophy, 
properly  so  called,  among  the  Greeks  before  they  come  in  contact 
with  Egypt,  that  is,  before  the  reign  of  Psammetichus,  who  admits 
them  into  the  country.  Moreover,  the  fathers  of  Greek  philosophy  are 
all  lonians ;  from  Asia  Minor  philosophy  was  imported,  first  into 
Italy,  and  at  a  comparatively  recent  period  into  Athens,  that  is,  into 
Greece  proper.  But  what  is  most  important,  we  find  in  Ionian  phil- 
osophy, and  that  too  at  its  very  outset,  conceptions  the  boldness  of 
which  is  in  marked  contrast  with  the  comparative  timidity  of  Attic 
philosophy,  —  conceptions  which  pre-suppose  a  long  line  of  intellectual 
development.  The  influence  of  Egj^tian  and  Chaldean  science,  which 
is,  moreover,  attested  by  Herodotus,  may  be  compared  to  that  exer- 
cised by  the  Arabian  schools  upon  the  development  of  Clu-istian 
thought  in  the  Middle  Ages.  It  has  been  exaggerated  by  Roth  {Ge- 
schichte  unserer  abendldndischen  Philosophie,  vol.  I.,  1846,  1862 ;  vol.  II., 
1858)  and  unjustly  denied  by  Zeller  (Die  Philosophie  der  Griechen,  5th 
ed.  1892,  vol.  I.;  English  translation  by  Sarah  AUeyne).  Concerning 
the  relation  of  Pythagoreanism  and  Platonism  to  Indian  and  Iranian 
speculation,  and  the  part  played  by  Babylon  as  the  centre  of  intellec 
tual  exchange  between  the  Orient  and  the  Occident,  see  §  9. 


DIVISION  5 

I.  In  the  development  of  Greek  philosophy,  we  have  two 
separate  periods,  —  a  period  of  spontaneous  creation,  and 
one  of  sceptical  reflection  and  re^^roduction. 

1.  The  problem  which  dominates  the  former  is  the 
problem  of  the  origin  of  things :  the  problem  of  lecoming. 
Among  the  lonians,  tliis  pliilosophy  assumes  the  form  of 
materialistic  pantheism;  among  the  Italian  philosophers, 
who  are  influenced  by  the  Doric  spirit,  it  is  essentially 
spiritualistic  pantheism.  The  systems  produced  by  these 
two  schools  contain  in  germ  all  the  doctrines  of  the  future, 
especially  the  monistic  and  atomistic  hj^^otheses,  the  two 
poles  of  modern  scientific  speculation.  —  From  Thales  to 
Protagoras,  or  from  600  to  440  b.  c. 

2.  The  age  of  critical  reflection  is  inaugurated  by  the 
irdvT(ov  fxerpov  avdpco7ro<;  of  the  Sophists.  This  period 
evolves  the  important  truth,  foreshadowed  by  Zeno,  Par- 
menides,  and  Anaxagoras,  that  the  human  understanding 
is  a  coefficient  in  the  production  of  the  phenomenon.  To 
the  problems  of  nature  are  added  the  problems  of  the  soul ; 
to  the  cosmological  questions,  logical  and  critical  questions ; 
to  the  speculations  on  the  essence  of  things,  investigations 
concerning  the  criterion  of  truth  and  the  end  of  life. 
Greek  philosophy  reaches  its  highest  development  in  Plato, 
as  far  as  depth  is  concerned ;  in  Aristotle  and  in  the  sci- 
ence of  Alexandria,  as  regards  analysis  and  the  extent  of 
its  inquiries. 

II.  Scientific  progress,  and  consequently  speculation, 
was  arrested  by  the  invasion  of  the  Northern  races.  The 
philosophical  spirit  was  extinguished  for  want  of  something 
to  nourish  it.  Ten  centuries  of  uninterrupted  labor  were 
followed  by  ten  centuries  of  sleep,  —  a  sleep  that  was  deep 
at  first,  and  then  broken  by  bright  dreams  of  the  past  (Plato 
and  Aristotle)  and  forecasts  of  the  future.  Altliougli 
the  logic  of  liist^jry  is  less  transparent  during  the  middle 
ages  tlian  before  and  after  this  period  of  transition,  wo 


6  INTRODUCTION 

notice  two  epoclis  that  run  parallel  with  those  of  Attic 
philosoph}- :  one,  Platonic,  realistic,  turned  towards  the 
past  (from  St.  Augustine  to  St.  Anselm),  the  other,  Peri- 
patetic, nominalistic,  big  with  the  future. 

III.  Modern  philosophy  dates  from  the  scientific  and 
literary  revival  in  the  fifteenth  century.  Its  history,  like 
that  of  Greek  speculation,  presents,  — 

1.  A  period  of  expansion  and  ontological  synthesis 
(Bruno,  Descartes,  Spinoza,  Leibniz),  and, 

2.  A  period  of  critical  reflection  and  analysis  (essays 
concerning  the  human  understanding :  Locke,  Hume,  Kant, 
and  liis  successors). 

§  3.     Sources 

The  principal  sources  for  the  history  of  jDliilosophy  are : 

For  pre-Socratic  speculation :  Plato  and  Aristotle. ^ 

For  Socrates:    Xenophon^  and  Plato,  particularly  the 

Apologj/,  the  CrtYo,  and  the  Fhcedo. 

For  Plato :  the  Republic^  the  Timceus^  the  Syviposium,  the 

Fhcedrtcs,  the  Thecetetiis,  the  Gorgias,  the  Protagoras.^ 
For  Aristotle :  the  Meta])hysics,  the  Logic,  the  Ethics,  the 

Physics,  the  Psychology,  the  Politics ;  the  commentators  of 

Aristotle,  especially  Simplicius.* 

*  Especially  the  first  book  of  the  Metaphysics  (see  §  17,  first  note), 
which  is  a  historical  summary  of  philosophy  from  Thales  to  Aristotle. 
The  fragments  of  the  pre-Socratic  authors  have  been  collected  by 
Mullach,  Fragmenta  phil.  grcec.  ante  Socratem,  3  vols.,  Paris,  1860 
[also  by  Ritter  and  Preller  (mentioned  on  page  8).  English  trans- 
lations in  Burnet's  Early  Oreek  Philosophy  (page  8),  and  of  Heraclitus, 
in  Patrick's  Heraclitus  on  Nature.  For  translations  of  classical  writers, 
consult  Bohn's  Classical  Library.  —  Tr.]. 

2  Memorabilia  Socratis  recens.  J.  G.  Schneider,  Oxf.,  1813. 
«  [See  §  16,  note  2.  —  Tr.] 

*  Comment,  in  Arist. physicorum  libros,  ed.  by  Hermann  Diels,  Berlin, 
1882  ;  Comment,  in  libros  de  anima,  ed.  by  M.  Hayduck,  Berlin,  1882. 


SOURCES  7 

For  the  post-Aristotelian  schools  and  Greek  philosophy 
in  general :  Lucretius,^  Cicero,^  Seneca,^  Plutarch,*  Sextus 
Empiricus,^  Diogenes  Laertius,^  Clement  of  Alexancb.ia,7 
Origeu,^  Hippolytus,^  Eusebius,!^  Plotiniis,"  Porphyry,ii 

1  Lucretii  Cari  de  rerum  natura  libb.  C.  Lachmaun  rec.  et  illustr., 
Berlin,  1850  ff.  [edited  also  by  Bernays,  Munro,  and  others]. 

2  The  De  divinatione  et  defato,  the  De  natura  deorum,  the  De  offi- 
ciis,  the  Dejinihus,  the  Tusculance  disputationes,  and  the  Academica; 
Opera  omnia,  ed.  I-^e  Clerc,  Bouillet,  Lemau-e,  17  vols.,  Paris,  1827-32 ; 
Opera  philosophica,  ed.  Goerenz,  3  vols.,  Leipsic,  1809-1813 ;  Ciceronis 
historia  pldlosophics  antiquce,  ex  omnibus  illius  scriptis  collegit  F. 
Gedike,  Berlin,  1782,  1801,  1814. 

3  Opera  qu£e  extant  c.  not.  et  comment,  varior.,  3  vols.,  Amsterdam, 
1672. 

*  De  physicis  philosophorum  decretis  libb.,  ed.  Beck,  Leipsic,  1777; 
Scripta  mornlia,  6  vols.,  Leipsic,  1820 ;  Opera  omnia  graece  et  latine  ed. 
Reiske,  12  vols.,  Leipsic,  1774-82. 

s  Sexti  Empirici  opera  (Uvpfxoveicop  vTrorvnuaeoiv  libb.  IIL  ;  Ad  ver- 
sus mathematicos  libb.  XL)  graic.  et  lat.  ed.  Fabricius,  Leipsic,  1718 
and  1842  ;  ed.  Emm.  Bekker,  Berlin,  1842. 

8  Diogenis  Laertii  de  vitis,  dogmatibus  et  apopTithegmatibus  darorum. 
philosophorum  libb.  X.  grsece  et  latine  ed.  Hiibner,  2  vols.,  Leipsic, 
1828,  1831 ;  D.  L.  1.  X.  ex  Italicis  codicibus  nunc  primum  excussis 
recensuit  C.  Gabr.  Cobet,  Paris,  1850.  Diogenes  Laertius  flourished 
about  230  of  oiir  era. 

'  dementis  Alexandrini  opera,  Leipsic,  1830-34  (Adyo?  TrporpfnTiKos 
TT/joy 'EXXj^ms- ;   IlatSaycoyos ;   Srpco/xaTf Is) . 

8  De  principds  gr.  ed.  c.  interpret,  lat.  Rufini,  et  annot.  instruxit  ed. 
R.  Redepeuuing,  Leipsic,  183G  ;  Contra  Celsum  libb.  ed.  Spencer,  Cam- 
bridge, 1671 ;  Origenis  opera  omnia  quje  graece  vel  latine  tantum  ex- 
stant  et  ejus  nomine  circumferuntur,  ed.  C.  et  C.  V.  Delarue,  denuo 
recens.  emend,  castig.  C.  H.  E.  Lommatzsch,  25  vols.,  Berlin,  1831-48. 

*  S.  Ilippolyti  refutalionis  omnium  hceresium  libror.  X.  quae  super- 
Bunt  graice  et  latine  ed.  Duncker  et  Schneidewin,  Gbtt.  1856-59. 
The  firbt  book,  known  by  the  title  ({)iXo(To(f)oCixfva,  was  for  a  long 
time  attributed  to  Origen  ;  l)Ooka  TV.-X.,  whioli  were  discovered  in 
Greece  in  1842,  were  first  pu]>]i9hed  by  Emm.  Miller,  Oxford,  1851, 
under  the  title  Origenis  philosophumena,  etc. 

1*  Eu.seliii  Paniph.  Pncparatio  evangelica,  ed.  Ileiiiichen,  Leipsic, 
1812. 

u  See  §  25. 


8  INTRODUCTION 

Proclus,!  Eunapms,^  Stobseus,^  Photius,*  Suidas,^  and  mod- 
ern historical  Works.^ 

1  See  §  25. 

2  Euiiapii  Sard.  VitCB  philosophorum  et  sophistarum,  ed.  Boissonade, 
Paris,  18i9. 

8  Stobfei  Eclogarwn  physicarum  et  ethicarwn  libb.  graece  et  latine  ed. 
Heeren,  2  vols.,  Gdtt.  1791,  1801  (out  of  print)  ;  id.  ed.  Meineke, 
2  vols.,  Leipsic,  1860,  1864;  Stobsei  Florilegium,  ed.  Th.  Gaisford, 
4  vols.,  Oxford,  1822 ;  Leipsic,  1823 ;  Meineke,  4  vols.,  Leipsic,  1855-57. 

*  MyriobihUon,  ed.  Hdschel,  Augsburg,  1801.  The  patriarch  Pho- 
tius  flourished  in  the  9th  century. 

^  Lexicon  of  Suidas,  ed.  Gaisford,  London,  1834  ;  Bernhardi,  2  vols., 
Halle,  1834.     Suidas  flourished  about  1000. 

6  Especially :  [jNIuUach,  Fragmenia  jihilosophorum  Grcecorum,  3  vols., 
1860-1881;  Diels,  Doxographi  Grceci,  Berlin,  1879]  ;  Ritter  and  PreUer, 
Historia  philosophice  Graeco-Romance  ex  fontium  locis  contexta  [7th  ed., 
Schultess  and  Wellmann,  Gotha,  1888] ;  Ritter,  Geschichte  der  Philo- 
sophie  alter  Zeil,  Berlin,  1829 ;  Brandis,  Handhuch  der  Geschichte  der 
griechisch-rbmischen  Philosophie,  3  vols.,  Berlin,  1835-1860  ;  same  author, 
Geschichte  der  Entwickelungen  der  gr.  Philosophie,  etc.,  2  vols.,  1862-64  ; 
Roth,  Geschichte  unserer  abend  land  ischen  Philosophie,  2  vols.,  Mannheim- 
1848-58 ;  Laforet,  Histoire  de  la  philosophie  ancienne,  2  vols.,  Brussels, 
1867 ;  Ed.  Zeller,  Die  Philosophie  der  Griechen  in  ihrer  geschichtlichen 
Entwickelung  [(five  editions  since  1844),  5th  ed.  begun  in  1892,  3  pts. 
in  5  vols.,  Leipsic  (Engl,  transl.  of  all  but  part  dealing  with  Ai'istotle 
and  elder  Peripatetics,  by  S.  F.  AUeyne  and  O.  J.  Reichel,  London  and 
New  York,  1876-1883.  Same  author's  smaller  work,  Grundriss  der 
Geschichte  der  griechischen  Philosophie,  4th  ed.,  Leipsic,  1893 ;  Engl, 
transl.  by  S.  F.  AUeyne  and  Evelyn  Abbot,  Xew  York,  1890.  — Tr.]. 
Tlie  following  may  also  be  consulted  with  profit :  Grote,  Histoi-ij  oj 
Greece,  6th  ed.,  10  vols.,  London,  1888 ;  the  same  author,  Plato  and 
the  other  Companions  of  Socrates,  5th  ed.,  London,  1888  ;  [same  author, 
Aristotle,  2  vols.,  2d  ed.,  1879;  Schwegler,  Geschichte  der  griechischen 
Philosophie,  3d  ed.  Tiibingen,  1886 ;  Ferrier,  Lectures  on  Greek  Philoso- 
phy, 2  vols.,  Edinburgh  and  London,  1866 ;  London,  1888 ;  Teichmiiller, 
Studien  zur  Geschichte  der  Begriffe,  Berlin,  1874  ;  Neue  Studien,  Gotha, 
1876-79;  Byk,  Die  vorsokratische  Philosophie,  Leipsic,  1875-77;  Burnet, 
Early  Greek  Philosophy,  London  and  Edinburgh,  1892  ;  INIayor,  A  Sketch 
oJ  Ancient  Philosophy  from  Tholes  to  Cicero,  Cambridge,  1881  If. ;  Benn, 
The  Greek  Philosophers,  2  vols.,  London,  1883  ;  Windelband,  Geschichte 
der  griechischen  Philosophie,  2d  ed.,  Munich,  1894 ;  Marshall,  A  Short 


SOURCES  9 

For  the  Patristic  period :  the  polemical  writiugH  of  the 
Fathers,  1  especially  the  X0709  TrpoTpeirrLKo^  7rpo<i  "EXXt;- 
va<i,  the  Pedagogue,  and  the  arpoiixara  of  St.  Clement  of 
Alexandria,  the  Principles  and  the  Anti-Celsus  of  Origen, 
the  Apologcticus  of  Tertullian,  the  Tnstitutiones  divincc  of 
Lactantius,  the  City  of  God  and  the  Confessions  of  ^t. 
Augustine. 

For  the  Scholastic  period :  the  De  divisione  naturce  of 
Scotus  Erigena,  the  Monologium,  the  Proslogium,  and  the 
Cur  Deus  homo  of  St.  Anselmus,  the  Theology,  the  Pthics, 
and  the  Dialectics  of  Abelard,  the  Sentences  of  Peter  the  Lom- 
bard, the  Commentary  of  Averroes,  the  Sum  of  St.  Thomas, 
the  Qiuvstiones  of  Duns  Scotus  and  Occam,  the  Dims  onajus 
of  Roger  Bacon,  the  writings  of  Raymundus  Lullus,  the 
historical  works  of  Ritter,  Cousin,  and  Haur(^au.2 

Hislori/  of  Greek  Philosophy,  London,  1891 ;  Chaignet,  Histoire  de  la 
psijchologie  des  Grecs,  5  vols.,  Paris,  1887-92;  Ziegler,  Die  Ethik  der 
Griechen  und  Romer,  Bonn,  1881  ;  Schmidt,  Die  Ethik  der  alten  Grie- 
chen,  2  vols.,  Berlin,  1881 ;  Kdstlin,  Die  Ethik  des  klassischen  Alter- 
//jwms,  Leipsic,  1887;  Luthardt,  Die  antike  Ethik,  1887;  W'dlter,  Die 
Geschichte  der  Aesthetik  im  AUerthum,  Leipsic,  1893;  Rohde,  Psyche, 
SeelenkuU  und  Unsterhlichkeitsglauhe  der  Griechen,  2  vols.,  Freiburg, 
1890-9-1;  Bergk,  Griechische  Litteratiiryeschichte,  2  vols.,  Berlin,  1872, 
1883;  K.  O.  Miiller,  Die  Geschichte  der  gi-iechischen  Litteratur,  2  vols., 
Stuttgart,  1882-84  ;  Mahafify,  History  of  Classical  Greek  Literature, 
3  vols.,  2d  ed.  London,  1892  ;  Teuffel,  Geschichte  der  romischen  Littera- 
tur, 5th  ed.,  Leipsic,  1890;  Bender,  Grwuh-iss  der  romischen  Litteratur- 
geschichle,  2d  ed.,  Leipsic,  1889  (Engl,  transl.  from  first  ed.  by  Crowell 
&  Richardson,  Boston,  1884)  ;  Preller,  Griechische  Mythologie,  2  vols., 
Berlin,  187.5;  Lehrs,  Pojmldre  Aufsdtze  aus  deni  AUerthum,  2d  ed., 
Leipsic,  1875;  Laurie,  Historical  Survey  of  Pre-Christian  Education, 
Londoji,  1895  (first  published  as  a  series  of  articles  in  the  "  School 
Review,"  May,  1893-April,  1895).  For  further  references,  see  L'eber- 
weg-IIeinze,  §  7,  pp.  27-33.  Consult  also  the  general  histories  of 
philosopliy  iiHMitionod  on  pages  13  IT.  —  Tit.]. 

1  Colleclfd  by  J.  P.  Mignc,  Paris,  1810  ff. 

2  [For  primitive  Christianity,  i)atristic  and  scholastic  philosophy 
consult,  besides  the  general  histories  of  philosophy  mentioned  on  pages 


10  INTKODUCTION 

For  the  philosophy  of  the  Renaissance  :  the  De  docta  tgno' 
rantia  of  Nicholas  of  Cusa,  the  De  suUilitate  and  the  De 
rerum  varietate  of  Cardanus,  the  De  immortalitate  animce 
of  Pomponatius,  the  Animadversiones  in  dialecticam  Ari~ 
stotelis  of  Ramus,  the  Essais  of  Montaigne,  the  TriumpJius 
philosophice,  the  De  rerum  ceternitate^  and  the  De  mundo  of 
Taurellus,  the  Aurora  of  J.  Boehme.^ 

13  if.  :  Drummond,  Philo  Judceus,  or  the  Jewish-Alexandrian  Philosophy 
in  its  Development  and  Completion,  2  vols.,  London,  1888 ;  Deutinger, 
Geist  der  christlicheii  Ueherlieferung,  Regensbm-g,  1850-51  ;  Ritsclil, 
Die  Entstehung  der  altkatholischen  Kirche,  2d  ed.,  Bonn,  1857  ;  de  Pres- 
sense,  Histoire  des  trois  premiers  siecles  de  Ve'glise,  Paris,  1858  ft". ; 
Baur,  Das  Christenthum  der  drei  ersten  Jahrhunderte,  2d  ed.,  Tubingen, 
1860 ;  J.  Alzog,  Grundriss  der  Patrologie,  3d  ed.,  Freiburg,  1876 ; 
Pfleiderer,  Das  Urchristenthum,  Berlin,  1887;  Stockl,  Geschichte  der 
Philosophie  der  patrisllschen  Zeit,  Wiirzburg,  1859  ;  Huber,  Die  Philoso- 
phie  der  Kirchenrdter,  ^lunicli,  1859;  Xeander,  Christliche  Dogmenge- 
schichte,  ed.  by  J.  Jacobi,  Berlin,  1857 ;  Harnack,  Lehrbuch  der 
Dogmengeschichte,  3  vols.,  2d  ed.,  Freiburg,  1888-90  ;  Donaldson,  A 
Critical  History  of  Christian  Literature  and  Doctrine,  3  vols.,  London, 
1885-66 ;  same  author,  The  Apostolic  Fathers,  London,  1874 ;  Ritter, 
Die  christliche  Philosophic,  2  vols.,  Gottingen,  1858-59 ;  Rousselot, 
Etudes  sur  la  philosophic  dans  le  moyen-dge,  Paris,  1840-42;  Ilaureau, 
De  la  philosophie  seolastiqufi,  2  vols.,  Paris,  1850;  same  author,  Histoire 
de  la  philosophie  scolastique,  2d  series,  Paris,  1872-80  :  Stockl,  Geschichte 
der  Philosophie  des  Mittelalters,  3  vols.,  Mayence,  1864-66;  Baeumker, 
Beitrdge  zur  Geschichte  der  Philosophie  des  Mittelalters,  Miinster,  1891 
ft.;    Renter,   Die    Geschichte   der   religiosen  AufkUirung   im  Mittelalter, 

2  vols.,  Berlin,  1875-77;  W.  Kaulich,  Geschichte  der  scholastischen  Phil- 
osophic, Prague,  1863;  Werner,  Die  Scholastik  des  spiiteren  Mittelalters, 

3  vols.,  Vienna,  1881  if. ;  Gass,  Geschichte  der  christlichen  Ethik,  Berlin, 
1881 ;  Ziegler,  Geschichte  der  christlichen  Ethik,  Strasbiu'g,  1886 ;  2d 
ed.,  1892;  Luthardt,  Geschichte  der  christlichen  Ethik,  1888;  Lecky, 
A  History  of  European  Morals  from  Augustus  to  Cliarlemagne,  2  xoh., 
London,  1869;  3d  ed.,  1877  ;  Denifle,  Die  Uniccrsitliten  des  Mittelalters, 
Berlin,  1885 ;  Laurie,  The  Rise  and  Early  Constitution  of  Universities, 
New  York,  1888.  For  further  references,  see  Ueberweg-Heinze,  vol. 
IL,  §§  1,  3,  4ff.;  §§  19  ff.  — Tr.] 

*  [For  the  Renaissance,  see  the  general  and  modern  histories  of 
philosophy   (pp.  12-16),  and   the   following :    Carrifere,   Die  philoso 


SOURCES  11 

For  modern  times :  Bruno's  Del  infinito  universo  and  De 
mo/iade,  Campanella's  Atheismus  triumphatus,  Pliilosophia 
sensibus  demonstrata^  and  De  geiitilismo^  Francis  Bacon's  No- 
vum organum,  Hobbes's  De  cive  and  De  corpore^  Descartes's 
Discourse  on  Method  and  Princij^les.,  Malebranche's  Recherche 
de  la  verite,  Spinoza's  Dtltics,  Locke's  -Essay  concerning  Hu- 
man Understanding,  Leibniz's  New  Essays  and  Monadology, 
Berkeley's  Principles  of  Human  Knowledge,  Condillac's 
Treatise  on  Sensations,  Holbach's  System  of  Nature,  the 
Essays  of  Hume  and  Reid,  Kant's  Critiques,  Fichte's  Science 
of  Knowledge,  Schelling's  System  of  Transcendental  Idealism, 
Hegel's  Logic  and  Encyclopedia  of  Philosophical  Sciences,  tlie 
Metaphysics  and  the  Psychology  of  Herbart,  Schopenhauer's 
World  as  Will  and  Idea,  Comte's  Course  on  Positive  Phil- 
osophy, J.  S.  Mill's  Logic,  Herbert  Spencer's  First  Prin- 
ciples, Albert  Lange's  History  of  Materialism,  Ed.  von 
Hartmann's  Philosophy  of  the  Unconscious,  etc. ;  likewise 
the  cliief  works  of  modern  scientific  literature  of  general 
and  therefore  philosophical  interest,  like  the  Celestial 
Bevolutions  by  Copernicus,  the  Mathematical  Principles  of 
Natural  Philosophy  by  Newton,  the  Spirit  of  the  Laws  by 
Montesquieu,  the  Analytical  Mechanics  by  Lagrange,  the 
Natural  History  of  the  Heavens  by  Kant,  the  Celestial 
Mechanics  and  Exposition  of  the  System  of  the  World  by 
Laplace,  Darwin's   book   on   the   Origin   of  Species,   etc. ; 


phische  Weltanschauunf/  der  Refonnntlonszcit,  1817.  2(1  ed.,  Leipsic, 
1887;  Voigt,  Die  Wictlerhdehung  des  clnxsischen  Altcrthums,  1859;  3d 
ed.,  edited  l)y  Lehnerdt,  2  vols.,  Berlin,  189:3;  Biirckhardt,  Die  Cultur 
der  Renaissance,  2  vols,  1860,  4th  ed.  l>y  L.  Geiger,  Leipsic,  1886 
(Engl,  transl.  l)y  S.  G.  C.  Middleman,  London,  1878  and  1890); 
Geiger,  Rennv<snnce  und  Ilumnnismus  in  Italien  und  Deulschlnnd,  Berlin, 
1882;  .Symonds,  The  Renaissance  in  Itahj,  7  vols.,  London,  1875- 
1886 ;  Pesfhel,  Geschichte  des  Zeilalters  der  Entdeckungen,  2d  ed., 
Leipsic,  1879.  For  further  references,  Ueberweg-Heinze,  vol.  III., 
§§  2-0.  -  Tu.] 


12  INTRODUCTION 

finally,  the  historical  works  of  Ritter,i  Erdmann,^  Barchou 
de  Penhoen,3  Michelet*  (of  Berlin),  Willm,^  Clialyb£eus,« 
Bartholmess,^  Kuno  Fischer,^  Zeller,^  Windelband,io  etc.^^ 

^  GescMchte  der  neueren  Philosophie  (vols.  IX.-XII.  of  his  Ge- 
schichte  der  Philosophie^,  1850-53. 

2  Versuch  einer  toissenschaftlichen  Darslellung  der  neueren  Philosophie, 
6  vols.,  Riga  and  Leipsic,  1834-1853. 

^  Histoire  de  la  philosophie  allemande  depuis  Leibniz  jusqu^ a  nos  jours 
Paris,  183G. 

*  Geschichte  der  letzten  Systeme  der  Philosophie  in  Deutschland  von 
Kant  bis  Hegel,  2  vols.,  Berlin  1837-38. 

*  Histoire  de  la  philosophie  allemande  \puis  Kant  jusqu'a  Hegel,  4 
vols.,  Paris,  1846-49. 

*  Historische  Entwickelung  der  spekulaliven  Philosophie  in  Deutschland 
von  Kant  bis  Hegel,  Dresden,  1837,  5tli  ed.,  1860 ;  Engl,  translation, 
1854. 

'  Histoire  des  doctrines  religieuses  de  la  philosophie  moderne,  2  vols., 
Paris,  1855  ;  Histoire  philosophique  de  PAcade'miede  Prusse,  2  vols.,  Paris, 
1851. 

8  Geschichte  der  neueren  Philosophie,  8  vols.,  Mannheim  and  Heidel- 
berg, 1854  ff.;  [2d  ed.,  1865  ff. ;  3d  ed.,  vol.  I.,  1  and  2,  1878,  1880; 
vol.  IL,  1889;  vols.  III.  and  IV.,  1882;  2d  ed.,  vol.  V.,  1885,  vol. 
VI.  1895 ;  vol.  VIT.  (Hegel)  not  yet  published  ;  vol.  VIII.  (Schopen- 
hauer), 1898.  Engl,  translation  of  vol.  I.,  1,  by  J.  P.  Gordy,  New 
York,  1887;  of  vol.  III.,  book  2,  by  J.  P.  Mahaffy,  London,  1866;  of 
vol.  v.,  chaps,  i.-v.,  by  W.  S.  Hough,  London,  1888.  Baco  und  seim 
Nachfolger,  2d  ed.,  Leipsic,  1875,  Engl,  translation  by  Oxenford,  Lon- 
don, 1857.  —  Tr.]. 

^  Geschichte  der  deutschen  Philosophie  seit  Leibniz,  Munich,  1872 ; 
2d  ed.,  1875. 

^^  Geschichte  der  neuern  Philosophie,  vol.  I.,  1878,  vol.  II.  1880. 

"  [Lechler,  Geschichte  des  englischen  Deismus,  Stuttgart  and  Tubin- 
gen, 1841 ;  Biedermann,  Die  deutsche  Philosophie  von  Kant  bis  auf 
unsre  Zeit,2  vols.,  Leipsic,  1843;  Damiron,  Essai  sur  P histoire  de  la 
philosophie  au  17""^  siecle,  Paris,  1846;  Fortlage,  Genetische  Geschichte 
der  Philosophic  seit  Kant,  Leipsic,  1852;  Ch.  de  Remusat,  Histoire  de  la 
philosophie  en  Angleterre,  etc.,  2  vols.,  Paris,  1875;  Harms,  Die  Philo- 
sophie seit  Kant,  Berlin,  1876 ;  Leslie  Stephen,  History  of  English 
Thought  in  the  Eighteenth  Century,  London,  1876  ;  Eucken,  Geschichte 
und  Kritik  der  Grundbegriffe  der    Gegenwart,  Leipsic,    1878 ;  2d  ed,, 


SOURCES  13 

For     European    philosophy    in    general :     (Stanley  ^), 
Brucker,^  Tiedemann,^  Buhle,*  Deg^rando,^  Tennemann,^ 

1893  (Engl,  transl.by  Stuart  Phelps,  1880)  ;  Seth,  From  Kant  to  Hegel, 
London,  1882  ;  Eucken,  Beitriige  zur  Geschichte  der  neueren  Philosophie, 
1886 ;  Monrad,  Denkrichtungen  der  neueren  Zeit,  Bonn,  1879  ;  HofEding, 
Einleitung  in  die  englische  Philosophie  unserer  Zeit  (German  transl.  by 
Kurella),  Leipsic,  1889 ;  Bowen,  Modern  Philosophy,  6th  ed..  New 
York,  1891  ;  Roberty,  La  philosophie  du  siecle,  Paris,  1891 ;  Royce,  The 
Spirit  of  Modern  Philosophy,  New  York,  1892;  Biu"t,  A  Histortj  oj 
Modern  Philosophy,  2  vols.,  Chicago,  1892  ;  Falckenberg,  Die  Geschichte 
der  neueren  Philosophie,  2d  ed.,  1892  (Engl,  transl.  by  A.  C.  Ai'mstrong, 
Jr.,  New  York,  1893);  Iloffding,  Den  Nyere  Filosojie  Hiatorie,  Kopenhar 
gen,  vol.  I.,  1891 ;  vol.  II.  will  be  issued  in  1895 ;  German  translation 
of  both  volumes,  by  Bendixen,  in  the  press  (O.  Reisland,  Leipsic) ; 
W.  Whewell,  History  of  the  Inductive  Sciences,  London,  1837,  3d  ed., 
1863;  J.  Schaller,  Geschichte  der  Naturphilosopihie  seit  Bacon,  2  vols., 
Leipsic,  1841-44  ;  J.  Baumann,  Die  Lehren  von  Rauin,  Zeit  und  Mathe- 
matik  in  der  neueren  Philosophie,  2  vols.,  Berlin,  1868-69 ;  Konig, 
Die  Entwickelung  des  Causalprohlems  von  Cartesius  bis  Kant,  Leipsic, 
1888 ;  same  author.  Die  Entwickelung  des  Causalprohlems  in  der  Phi- 
losophie seit  Kant,  2  pts.,  Leipsic,  1889-90 ;  Lasswitz,  Geschichte  der 
Atomistik  vom  Mittelalter  his  Newton,  2  vols.,  Ilambiu'g  and  Leipsic, 
1890;  Grimm,  Zur  Geschichte  des  Erkenntnissproblems  von  Bacon  bis 
Hume,  1890  ;  Vorlander,  Ge.^chichte  der  philosophischen  Moral,  Rechts-, 


^  [History  of  Philosophy,  London,  105.5  ;  in  Latin,  2  vols.,  Leipsic, 
1712.  Also,  Pierre  Bayle,  Dictionnaire  historiqtie  et  critique,  2  folio 
vols.,  1695-97 ;  4th  ed.,  revised  and  enlai-ged  by  Des  Maizeaux,  4  folio 
vols.,  Amsterdam  and  Leyden,  1740 ;  Boureau-Deslandes,  Histoire 
critique  de  la  philosophie,  3  vols.,  Paris,  1730-36  if.  —  Tk.] 

2  Historia  critica  philosophire  inde  a  mimdi  incunahilis,  6  vols.,  Leip- 
sic, 1742-07. 

8  Geist  der  spekuluticen  Philosojjhie,  6  vols.,  Marburg,  1791-97. 

•  Lehrbuch  der  Geschichte  der  Philosophie,  S  vols.,  Gottingen,  1796- 
1804. 

•  Histoire  comparde  des  systhnes  de  la  philosophie,  3  vols.,  Paris,1803; 
2ded.,  4  vols.,  1822-23. 

•  Geschichte  der  PhUosophie,  11  vols.,  L(!ipsic,  1798-1819';  Grundriss 
der  Geschichte  der  Philosophie,  Leipsic,  1812  ;  [l-ngl-  transl.  1833  and 
1.852  (liolm'a  Library)]. 


14  INTRODUCTION 

Ritter,^  Hegel,^  Schwegler,^  Renouvier,^  Nourrisson,' 
Cousin,*  Janet,"  Prantl,^  Lange,^  Erdmann,^*^  Ueberweg," 

und  Staatslehre  der  Engliinder  und  Franzosen,  Marburg,  1855 ;  Mack- 
intosh, On  the  Progress  of  Ethical  Philosophy  during  the  \lth  and  l^th 
Centuries,  Edinlmrgli,  1872;  Jodl,  Geschichte  der  Ethik  in  der  neueren 
Philosophie,  2  vols.,  Stuttgart,  1882-89;  Bluntschli,  Geschichte  des  all' 
gemeinen  Staatsrechts  und  der  Politik  seit  dem  16.  Jahrhundert,  Municli, 
1864  ;  O.  Pfleiderer,  Religionsphilusophic  auf  geschichtlicher  Grundlage, 
2  vols.,  3d  ed.,  Berlin,  1S93  (vol.  I. :  Geschichte  der  Religionsphilosophie 
von  Spinoza  bis  zur  Gegenivart)  ;  Engl,  transl.  by  A.  Stewai't  and  A. 
Menzies,  London,  1886-1888 ;   Punjer,   Geschichte  der  christlichen  Re- 


1  Geschichte  der  Philosophie,  12  vols.,  Hamburg,  1829-53. 

*  Vorlesungen  iiber  die  Geschichte  der  Philosophie,  published  by 
Michelet,  Berlin,  1833  (vols.  XIII.-XV.  of  the  Complete  Works); 
[Engl,  transl.  by  E.  S.  Haldane  in  3  vols.,  London,  1892-1896. 
-Tr.] 

'  Geschichte  der  Philosophie  iin  Umriss,  Stuttgart,  1848 ;  15th  ed. 
1891 ;  [Engl,  translations  by  Seelye,  Xew  York,  1856  if.,  and  J.  XL 
Stirling,  7th  ed.,  Edinburgh,  1879]. 

^  Manuel  de  philosophie  ancienne,  2  vols.,  Paris,  1844 ;  Manuel  de 
philosophie  moderne,  Paris,  1842. 

5  Tableau  des  progres  de  la  pense'e  humaine  depuis  Thales  j'usqua 
Leibniz,  Paris,  18.58,  1860. 

®  Cours  dliistoire  de   la  philosophie,  Paris,   1829  [Engl,  transl.   by 

0.  W.  Wight,  2  vols.,  New  York,  1889.  —  Tr.]  ;  Histoire  gene'rale  de 
la  philosophie  depuis  les  temps  les  plus  anciens  jusqxi' au  dix-neuvieme  siecle, 
1  vol.,  Paris,  1863;  12th  ed.  published  by  Barthelemy  Saint-Hilaire, 
Paris,  1884. 

'  Histoire  de  la  philosophie  morale  et  politique  dans  Vantiquite  et  dans 
les  temps  modernes,  Paris,  1858. 

^  Geschichte  der  Logik  im  Abendlande,  4  vols.,  Leipsic,  1855  ff. 

'  Geschichte  des  Material is7nus,  3d  ed.,  Iserlohn,  1876-77;  [Engl, 
transl.  m  3  vols,  by  E.  C.  Thomas,  London,  1878-81.  —  Tr.]. 

^^  Grundriss  der  Geschichte  der  Philosophie,  2  vols.,  3d  ed.,  Berlin, 
1878;  [4th  ed.  prepared  by  B.  Erdmann,  1895;  Engl,  transl.  3  vols., 
ed.  by  W.  S.  Hough,  London,  1890.  —  Tr.]. 

"  Grundriss  der  Geschichte  der  Philosophie,  3  vols.,  7th  ed.,  published 
and  enlarged  by  Heinze,  Berlin,  1888  ;  [8th  ed.  vol.  L,  1894,  voL  IIL, 

1,  1896;  Engl,  transl.  by  G.  S.  Morris,  New  York,  1872-74,  — Tr.J. 


SOtRCES  15 

Scholten,!  Dulu-ing,2  Lewes,^  Lefevi-e,*  Alaux,^  Franck,« 
FoiiiU^e,7  Fabre,^  Kirchner.^ 

ligiompldlosopUe  seit  der  Reformation,  2  vols.,  Braunschweig,  1880-83; 
Engl,  transl.  by  W.  Hastie,  vol.  I.,  Edinburgh  and  London,  1887; 
Dessoir,  Geschichte  der  neueren  deutschen  Psychologie,  vol.  I.,  Berlin, 
1895;  Buckle,  History  of  Civilization  in  England,  London,  1857-60; 
Draper,  History  of  the  Intellectual  Development  of  Europe,  New  York, 
1863;  Lecky,  History  of  the  Rise  and  Influence  of  the  Spirit  of  Rational- 
ism in  Europe,  London,  1885,  5th  ed.,  1872  ;  Dean,  The  History  of  Civ- 
ilization, New  York  and  London,  1869  ;  Hettner,  Litteraturgeschichte 
des  18.  Jahrhunderts,  3  parts,  Braunschweig,  1862-70;  Paulsen,  Ge- 
schichte desgelehrten  Unterrichts  (from  middle  ages  to  the  present  time), 
Leipsic,  1885 ;  Engl,  transl.  by  E.  D.  Perry,  New  York  and  London, 
1895.  For  further  references,  see  Falckenberg  (trans.),  pp.  15-17  ;  also 
Ueberweg-Heinze,  vol.  III.,  §  1  ff. ;  and  Windelband's  History  of 
Philosophy.  —  Tr.] 

1  History  of  Religion  and  Philosophy,  3d  ed.  much  enlarged,  1868 
(Dutch)  ;  French  transl.  from  2d  ed.  by  Reville,  Paris  and  Strasburg, 
1861 ;  German  translation  from  3d  ed.  by  Redepenning,  Elberfeld, 
1868. 

2  Kritische  Geschichte  der  Philosophie,  4th  ed.,  Leipsic,  1894. 

8  A  Biographical  History  of  Philosophy  from  its  Origin  in  Greece  down 
to  the  Present  Day,  3d  ed.,  London,  1863. 

*  La  philosophie,  Paris,  1879. 

'  Histoire  de  la  philosophie,  Paris,  1882. 

8  Dictionnaire  des  sciences  philosopldques,  2d  ed.,  Paris,  1875. 
■^  Histoire  de  la  philosophie,  Paris,  1875,4th  ed.,  1883;  Extraits  des 
grands  philosophes,  Paris,  1877. 

8  Histoire  de  la  philosophie,  Paris,  1877. 

•  Katechismus  der  Geschichte  der  Philosophie,  Leipsic,  1878  ;  2d  ed., 
1884.  [To  these  may  be  added  :  Trendelenburg,  Historische  Beilrdge  zur 
Philosophie, -ivoh.,  Berlin,  1816-67;  Zeller,  Vortrage  und  Ahhandlungcn, 
3  series,  1865-84;  Ilartenstein,  Historisch-philosophische  Ahhandlungen, 
Leipsic,  1870;  Sigwart,  Kleine  Schriflen,  2  vols.,  1881  ;  2d  ed.,  1889; 
Eucken,  Lebensanschnuungen  der  grossen  Denier,  Leipsic,  1890;  Bau- 
mann,  Geschichte  der  Philosophie,  1890;  "NVindelband,  Geschichte  der 
Philosophie,  Freiburg',  1892  (Engl,  transl.  by  ,7,  IL  Tufts,  London  and 
New  York,  1893) ;  Bcrginann,  Geschichte  der  Philosophie,  2  vols.,  Berlin, 
1892-9t;  Deussen,  Allgemeine  Geschichte  der  Philosophic,  in  six  parts, 
vol.   L,  part  1,   Leipsic,   1891;  Willmann,  Geschichte  des  Idealhmus, 


16  INTRODUCTION 

3  vols.,  vol.  I.,  Braunschweig,  1894.  For  further  references,  see  Ueber- 
weg-Heinze,  vol.  I.,  §  4,  Falckenberg,  and  Windelband.  Histories  of 
special  philosophical  sciences  :  Prantl  (mentioned  above)  ;  Harms, 
Die  Philosophie  in  ihrer  Geschichte,  vol.  I.,  PsychoJogie,  vol.  XL,  Logik, 
Berlin,  1877,  1881 ;  Siebeck,  Geschichte  der  Psijchologie,  Gotha,  1380- 
84; ;  Sidgwick,  History  of  Ethics,  London  and  New  York,  3d  ed.,  1892 ; 
Paidsen,  System  der  Ethik,  2  vols.,  3d  ed.,  Berlin,  1894  (vol.  I.,  pp. 
31-191,  contains  a  history  of  ethics) ;  Paul  Janet,  Histoire  de  la 
science  politique  dans  ses  rapports  avec  la  morale,  3d  ed.,  Paris ;  same 
author's  History  of  Ethics,  mentioned  above ;  Bosanquet,  The  History 
of  ^Esthetics,  London  and  New  York,  1892 ;  Flint,  History  of  the 
Philosophy  of  History,  New  York,  1894.  For  further  references,  see 
Ueberweg-Heinze,  vol.  I.,  §  4,  pp.  8-15 ;  Windelband  (transL),  pp.  20, 
21 :  and  Falckenberg,  pp.  15-17,  628-629.  The  following  are  the 
most  important  philosophical  journals  :  The  Philosophical  Review,  vol. 
4,  1895;  Mind,  New  Series,  vol.4;  The  Monist,  vol.  5;  The  Ainer- 
icon  Journal  of  Psychology,  vol.  6 ;  The  Psychological  Review,  vol. 
2 ;  International  Journal  of  Ethics,  vol.  5  ;  Zeitschrift  fur  Philosophie 
und  philosophische  Kritik,  New  Series,  vol.  106 ;  Vierteljahresschrift 
fiir  wissenschaftliche  Philosophie,  vol.  18 ;  Philosophisches  Jahrhuch, 
vol.  8 ;  Zeitschrift  fur  Philosopjhie  und  Pedagogik,  vol.  2 ;  Jahrhuch 
fur  Philosophie  und  spekidative  Theologie,  vol.  9  ;  Zeitschrift  fiir  exacte 
Philosophie,  vol.  21  ;  Archiv  fir  Geschichte  der  Philosophie,  vol.  8  ;  Archiv 
fur  systematische  Philosophie  (Npw  Series  of  the  Philosophische  Monats- 
hefte),  vol.  1;  Philosophischt:  Studien,  vol.  11;  Zeitschrift  fir  Psy- 
chologic und  Physiologic  der  Sinnesorgane,  vol.  8  ;  Zeitschrift  fiir  Volker- 
psychologie  und  Sprachwissenschaft,  vol.  25  ;  Revue  philosnphique,  vol  20  ; 
Revue  de  metaphysiqne  et  de  morcde,  vol.  3  ;  L'annee  philosophique,  vol.  5, 
1894  ;  Vannee  psychologique,  vol.  1  ;  Rivista  Italiana  di  Filosofia,  vol.  9. 
The  following  American  and  English  philosophical  series  are  of  value 
to  the  student  of  philosophy:  Griggs's  Philosophical  C/asszcs -(German 
philosophers),  G.  S.  Morris,  editor,  Chicago;  Philosophical  Classics  for 
English  Readers,  W.  Knight,  editor,  Philadelphia  and  Edinburgh ; 
Series  of  Modern  Philosophers,  E.  H.  Sneath,  editor,  New  York;  Ethical 
Series,  E.  H.  Sneath,  editor,  Boston  ;  The  Library  of  Philosophy,  J.  H. 
Muirhead,  editor,  London  and  New  York ;  The  English  and  Foreign 
Philosophical  Library,  London  ;  Ethical  Library,  J.  H.  Muirhead,  editor, 
London  and  New  York  ;  Bohn  Library,  London.  The  most  extensive 
Grerman  collection  of  philosophical  works  is  the  Philosophische  Bibli- 
othek,  J.  H.  von  Kirchmann,  editor,  Heidelberg.  Felix  Alcan,  Paris, 
publishes  the  Bibliotheque  de  Philosophie.  —  Tit.] 


I 

GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 


FIRST  PERIOD 

iLGE    OF    IklETAPHYSICS    PROPER    OR   PHILOSOPHY 
OF    NATURE 

(600-400) 

§  4.     Origin  of  Greek  Philosophy  ^ 

lyLE  ptiilosophy  of  the  Hellenes  emancipates  itself  from 
their  religion  in  the  form  of  theology  and  gnomic  mo- 
rality.2     Aryan  naturalism,  modified  by  the  national  genius 

^  [Cf.  chapters  on  mythology,  etc.,  in  Grote's  History  of  Greece 
(cited  page  8)  ;  Preller's  Mythologie  (cited  page  9) ;  Lehrs,  Populdre 
Aufsatze  (cited  page  9)  ;  and  histories  of  Greek  philosophy.  —  Tr.] 

2  That  is  to  say,  philosophy  is  of  comparatively  recent  origin,  while 
religion,  which  precedes  it  historically,  is  as  old  as  nations  and  hu- 
manity itself.  Philosophy,  being  a  late  product  of  human  develoj> 
ment,  plays  but  a  subordinate  and  intermittent  part  in  history. 
Religion,  on  the  other  hand,  guides  its  destinies.  It  is  the  primordial 
and  permanent  expression  of  what  lies  at  tlie  very  root  of  our  nature, 
that  is,  the  will,  and  consists  essentially  in  the  rvill  to  be,  until  the  evolu- 
tion of  consciousness  enables  it  to  foresee  its  highest  and  absolute 
end,  the  good.  To  will-to-live  means  to  resist  annihilation,  conse- 
quently, to  dread  everything  that  is  supposed  to  have  the  power  of 
destroying  and  of  preserving  life.  Now,  the  horror  of  death  and  of 
the  forces  which  produce  it,  the  passionate  desire  for  life  and  what- 
fver  is  able  to  preserve  it,  is  precisely  what  constitutes  the  essence  of 
(iiaififia,  the  characteristic  trait  of  the  religious  phenomenon.  This 
is  80  true  that  we  find  the  ])elief  \\\  immortality  and  the  worship  of 
tlie  dead  ax  beings  that  continue  to  live  in  spite  of  all,  intimately  con- 
nected with  all  religions.  Such  a  belief  simply  represents  the  desire 
of  tlio  will-to-live  to  continue  even  after  death  and  beyond  the  grave. 

3 


609-^ 


18  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

and  the  physical  conditions  under  which  it  developed, 
forms  its  starting-point.  This  naturalism  had  passed  the 
period  of  infancy  long  before  the  appearance  of  philoso- 
phy. The  luminous  Ether  (Diaus-Zeus),  the  Sun  and 
its  fire  (Apollo),  the  Storm-cloud  and  its  thunderbolts 
(Pallas- Athene),  were  originally  taken  for  the  gods  them- 
selves. Just  as  the  child  transforms  its  surroundings 
into  an  enchanted  world,  and  regards  its  doll  and  wooden 
horse  as  living  beings,  so  the  humanity-child  makes  na- 
ture after  its  own  image.  For  the  contemporaries  of 
Homer  and  Hesiod,  such  objects  are  merely  the  sensible 
manifestations  of  the  invisible  divinity  concealed  behind 
them,  a  being  that  is  similar  to  the  human  soul,  but  superior 
to  it  in  power,  and,  like  it,  invested  with  immortality.  The 
gods  form  a  kind  of  idealized,  transcendent  humanity, 
whose  vices  as  well  as  virtues  are  magnified.  The  world 
is  their  work,  their  empire,  the  theatre  of  their  wishes. 

The  Old  Testament,  which  might  be  cited  against  us,  and  which  is  cer- 
tainly far  from  being  explicit  on  the  subject  of  individual  immortality, 
is  so  much  the  more  outspoken  on  the  question  of  the  immortality  of 
Israel.  Nay,  the  immortality  of  Israel  is  its  fundamental  dogma.  It 
has  been  well  said,  men  would  have  no  religion  at  all  if  there  were  no 
death ;  and  the  essence  of  the  religious  phenomenon  was  excellently 
characterized  by  the  preacher  who  once  remarked :  "  I  never  have  such 
well-disposed  hearers  as  on  Good  Friday,  and  what  makes  them  so 
religious  is  the  memento  mori."  Hence  we  may  define  religion  as  fol- 
lows :  Subjectively,  it  is  the  fear  with  which  the  givers  of  life  and 
death,  be  they  real  or  imaginary,  inspire  us  ;  objectively,  it  is  the  sum 
of  ideas,  doctrines,  and  institutions  resulting  from  this  feeling. 
Religious  theory,  or  theology,  and  religious  practice,  or  worship,  the  orig- 
inal form  of  morality,  are  constitutive,  but  derived  and  secondary 
elements,  the  products  of  an  essentially  emotional,  instinctive,  and 
{esthetical  phenomenon  called  religion.  By  reflecting  upon  itself 
religion  becomes  theology ;  theology,  in  its  turn,  reflects  upon  itself, 
and  becomes  religious  criticism,  philosophy  (Xenophanes).  [Concern- 
ing the  origin  and  evolution  of  religion,  see  Paulsen's  Introduction  to 
Philosophy,  pp.  266  ff.] 


ORIGIN  OF   GREEK  PHILOSOPHY  19 

defeats,  and  triumphs.  Man,  whom  they  envy  rather  than 
love,  exists  for  their  pleasure.  They  are  the  highest 
personifications  of  the  will-to-live,  and  are  jealous  of  their 
unquestioned  superiority,  hence  they  deny  him  perfect 
happiness.  The  most  assiduous  worship,  the  richest  sacri- 
fices, the  most  perfect  fidelity,  cannot  move  them  when  our 
prosperity  displeases  them.  Hence  the  melancholy  which 
breathes  in  the  gnomic  poetry  of  a  Solon  or  a  Theognis, 
who  prefer  death  to  life,  and  esteem  them  happy  who  have 
never  been  born  or  who  die  young.^ 

In  the  measure  in  which  the  moral  conscience  is  devel- 
oped and  re  lined,  religious  ideas  are  transformed  and  spirit- 
ualized. The  gods  of  Homer,  who  reflect  the  exuberant, 
versatile,  and  quarrelsome  youth  of  the  Hellenic  nation,  are 
succeeded  by  tlie  just  and  wise  gods,  the  creations  of  its 
riper  manhood  (Pindar,  ^Eschylus,  Sophocles).  This  qual- 
itative transformation  of  the  religious  ideas  is  accompanied 
by  a  quantitative  transformation.  Polytheism  aims  at 
greater  simplicity.  The  good,  which  the  will  perceives  as 
its  highest  end,  is  synonymous  with  harmony,  and  harmony 
means  unity  in  diversity.  Religious  and  moral  progress  is, 
in  consequence,  a  progress  in  the  unitary  and  monotheistic 
direction. 

The  moral  consciousness,  which  among  the  Greeks  is 
identical  witli  the  sense  of  the  beautiful,  finds  a  powerful 
ally  in  reason  and  its  natural  tendency  to  unity.  Guided 
by  the  monistic  instinct,  theology  asks  itself  tlie  question, 
Who  is  the  oldest  of  tlie  gods,  and  in  what  order  do  they 
spring  from  their  common  Father  ?  and  receives  an  answer 
in  the  theogonies  of  Hesiod,  Pherecydes  of  Syros,^  and 
Orpheus.^     Here,  for  the  first  time,  the  philosophical  spirit 

'  Cf.  ZclliT,  vol.  I.,  Introduction. 

^  F^herecydis  frafjmpnta  coll.  et  illustr.  Fr.  G.  Sturz,  2il  ed.,  Leipsic, 
1834. 

'  See  concerning  Orjilu'us  llif  scholarly  work  of  Lobcck,  Aglaopha' 
mux  sive  de  theologice  mysticat  Grcccorum  causis,  2  vols.,  1829. 


20  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

finds  satisfaction;  tliese  fantastic  conceptions  are  anticipa- 
tions of  the  rational  explanation  of  nature. 

To  conscience  and  reason  a  third  factor,  experience,  is 
added.  Tliis,  too,  assists  in  the  transformation  of  religious 
ideas  by  demonstrating,  with  increasing  evidence,  the  im- 
possibility of  explaining  all  phenomena,  without  exception, 
by  capricious  wills.  The  facts  of  mathematics,  because 
of  their  universality  and  necessity,  especially  defy  theo- 
logical interpretation ;  how  indeed  can  we  assume  the  fact 
that  twice  two  is  four  or  that  the  three  angles  of  a  triangle 
are  equal  to  two  right  angles,  to  be  the  result  of  caprice 
and  not  of  absolute  necessity  ?  In  the  same  way  the  obser- 
vation of  astronomical  and  physical  facts,  and  their  constant 
regularity  and  periodicity,  gives  rise  to  the  idea  of  a  Will 
that  is  superior  to  the  whims  of  the  gods  {ava<^Kif]^  aSpdareia, 
fiolpa^  rvxv)->  of  ^^  immutable  Justice  (Sikj],  elixap/xevr]),  of 
a  divine  Law  (delo^  v6/Mo<i),  of  a  supreme  Intelligence  {d€io<; 
X0709,  6eio<;  vov^).  The  pioneers  of  philosophy,  men  like 
Thales,  Xenophanes,  and  Pythagoras,  who  were  the  first 
to  protest  against  theological  antliropomorphism,  were  like- 
wise mathematicians,  naturalists,  and  astronomers,  if  we 
may  so  designate  men  who  had  an  elementary  knowledge 
of  the  course  of  the  stars,  the  properties  of  numbers,  and 
the  nature  of  bodies. 

Philosophy  dates  her  origin  from  the  day  when  these 
physicians,  as  Aristotle  terms  them  in  distinction  from 
their  predecessors,  the  theologians,  relegated  the  traditional 
gods  to  the  domain  of  fable,  and  explained  nature  by  prin- 
ciples and  causes  (apxal  koX  ahia).  Emerging  as  she  did 
from  the  conflict  between  reason  and  religious  authority, 
which  sought  revenge  by  systematically  accusing  her  of 
atheism  and  treason,  philosophy  did  not  at  once  cast  off 
the  mythological  garb.  She  loved  to  express  herself  in  the 
rhythmical  language  of  the  poets;  and  even- her  concep- 
tions retained  the  marks  of  the  religious  faith  from  which 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  MILETUS  21 

she  sprang.  The  gods  are  not  abolished ;  they  are  restored 
to  their  true  nature,  and  regarded  as  elements  (aTocxda). 
Following  the  example  of  theology,  pliilosophy  begins  to 
ask  herself  the  question,  What  is  the  primitive  element, 
the  one  that  precedes  the  others  in  dignity  and  in  time, 
and  from  which,  consequently,  the  others  have  been  gen- 
erated ?  The  theogonies  become  cosmogonies,  and  the  only 
important  question  concerning  which  the  first  thinkers 
differ  is  the  question  as  to  what  constitutes  the  primor- 
dial natural  force,  the  principle  (apxi])- 

§  5.     The  School  of  Miletus.     Thales,  Anaximander, 
Auaximenes  ^ 

1.  Thales,^  the  head  of  what  may  be  called  the  school 
of  Miletus,  and  the  father  of  all  the  Ionian  schools,  lived 
about  600  B.  c.  According  to  him,  water  is  the  first  prin- 
ciple, the  universal  substratum,  of  which  the  other  bodies 
are  merely  modifications ;  water  envelops  the  earth  on  all 
sides ;  the  earth  floats  upon  this  infinite  ocean,  and  con- 
stantly derives  from  it  the  nourishment  it  needs. 

This  doctrine  is  the  old  Aryan  myth  of  the  heavenly 
Okeanos  translated  into  scientific  language :  the  water  of 
the  storm-cloud  fructifies  the  earth  and  is  the  father  of 
all  living  things.^  It  is  all  we  know  positively  of  the 
philosophy  of  Thales.  He  is,  moreover,  represented  to  us 
by  antiquity  as  the  first  geometrician,  the  first  astronomer, 
and  the  first  physicist  among  the  Greeks.     He  is  said  to 

1  [For  the  pre-Socratics,  see  the  collections  of  Fragments,  Teich- 
miiller's  Studien  and  Neue  Studien,  Byk,  Burnet,  etc.,  cited  above. 
Translations  of  the  Fragments  found  in  Burnet.  See  also  Ritter, 
Geschichle  der  ionischen  Philosophir,  Berlin,  1821.  —  Krische,  For- 
tchuitfjen  auf  dem  Gehiet  der  alien  I'hilo^op/iie,  (icittiiigen,  1840.  —  Tu.] 

3  Chief  source,  Mel.,  I.,  3;  [Hitter  and  Treller,  7th  ed.,  pp.  6-11.  — 
Tb.]. 

»  Plato,  Cratylus,  402  B. 


22  GREEK  PHn.OSOPHY 

have  predicted  the  eclipse  of  the  28th  of  May,  585,  and  to 
have  been  acquainted  with  the  phenomenon  of  magnetism, 
as  well  "as  with  the  attractive  property  of  polished  amber 
{rjXeKTpov). 

2.  According  to  Anaxiimander,!  ^  fellow-countryman 
and  disciple  of  Thales,  the  author  of  a  work  O71  Nature,  the 
first  principle  is  not  water,  but  the  infinite  atmosphere  (to 
aTveipov),  from  which  it  comes  in  order  to  fructify  the  earth. 
This  infinite,  indistinct  matter  is  the  mother  of  the  heavens 
and  the  worlds  which  they  encompass  (joiv  ovpavwv  koI  tojv 
iv  avrol<i  Koa/jicov).  Everything  that  exists  owes  its  being 
to  the  first  principle,  and  arises  from  it  by  separation ;  it  is 
therefore  just  that  everything  render  to  it,  at  the  hour 
appointed  by  Fate,  the  life  which  Fate  has  given  it,  in  order 
that  this  life  may  circulate  and  pass  to  new  beings.  The 
opposites,  warm  and  cold,  dry  and  moist,  which  do  not 
exist  in  the  aireipov,  the  primitive  chaos  where  everything 
is  neutralized,  are  gradually  parted  off,  and  form  nature, 
with  its  contraries,  its  opposite  qualities,  and  separate  ele- 
ments. The  first  opposition  is  that  between  the  warm  and 
dry,  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  cold  and  moist,  on  the  other ; 
the  former  occurring  in  the  earth,  the  latter  in  the  heavens 
which  surround  it.  The  earth  is  a  cylindrical  body,  and 
floats  freely  in  the  infinite  ether,  being  held  in  equilibrium 
because  of  its  equal  distance  from  all  the  other  heavenly 
bodies  (§ia  t?)^  o/xoiap  TrdvTwv  aTroaraaiv).  There  are  an 
infinite  number  of  worlds  (Oeot),  which  are  alternately 
termed  and  destroyed.     The  fu-st  animals  were  produced 

1  Sources:  Aristotle,  Met.,  XII.,  2;  Phjs.,  III.,  4;  Simplicius,  In 
Phys.,  f.  6,  32  ;  Plutarch,  in  Eusebius,  Prcep.  evang.,  I.,  8;  Hippolytus, 
Refut.  hceres.,  I.,  6;  Cicero,  De  nat.  deor.,  I.,  10;  Schleiermacher,  Ueber 
Anaximandros,  Complete  Works,  3d  series,  vol.  II.,  pp.  171-296;  Ritter 
and  Preller,  pp.  12-19;  [Mullach,  Fragmenta,  I.,  p.  240;  Burnet,  pp. 
47  ff.  —  Tr]  ;  C.  Mallet,  Histoire  de  la  philosophie  ionienne,  Paris,  1842 ; 
[Teichmuller,  Studien  and  Neue  Studien.  —  Tr.]. 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  MILETUS  23 

in  the  water,  and  from  tliem  the  more  advanced  species 
gradually  arose.  Man  sprang  from  the  fish.  Individuals 
and  species  constantly  change,  but  the  substance  whence 
they  are  derived,  the  uTreipov,  is  indestructible  {d(f)dapTov, 
addvarov,  dvQ}\e6pov),  because  it  is  uncreated  {dyevvi]Tov). 
It  envelops  everything,  produces  everything,  governs  ev- 
eiything  (Trepie'vet  diravra  Kal  irdvra  Kv^epva),  It  is  the 
supreme  divinity  {jo  delov),  possessing  a  perpetual  vitality 
of  its  own. 

3.  Anaxe^ienes  1  of  Miletus,  the  disciple  of  Anaximan- 
der  and  third  representative  of  the  Ionian  philosophy,  calls 
the  generative  principle  of  things  air  or  breath  {d^p,  nrvevp.a, 
-^vx^])'  His  pliilosophy,  which  is  a  more  exact  formulation 
of  Anaximander's  doctrine,  may  be  summarized  in  the  fol- 
lowing words :  infinite  matter,  a  perpetual  motion  of  con- 
densation and  rarefaction  that  is  something  like  a  plastic 
principle,  necessity  directing  the  motion  (St'/c?;,  avdy/crj). 
Matter,  motion,  motive  force,  directing  necessity :  we  find 
among  the  lonians  all  the  elements  of  the  explanations 
of  nature  attempted  afterwards.  But  their  systems  are 
like  rudimentary  organisms.  The  perfection  of  a  living 
being  depends  upon  the  greater  or  less  differentiation  of  its 
organs;  the  more  its  constitutive  parts  differ  from  each 
other  and  become  specialized,  the  higher  it  rises  in  the 
scale  of  beings.  Now,  the  Ionian  philosophy  is,  when  com- 
pared with  that  of  Aristotle,  perfectly  uniform.  Thales 
regards  water,  Anaximenes  air,  as  substratum,  motive  force, 
and  fate,  or  the  law  of  motion.2  Progress  in  science,  as 
well  as  in  nature,  is  made  possible  by  the  division  of  labor, 
by  differentiation  of  the  constitutive  elements  of  being,  by 
the  multiplication  and  opposition  of  systems. 

1  Plutarch,  in  Eusebius,  Prnsp.  evaruj.,  I.,  8;  Cicero,  De  nat.  dear., 
I.,  10 ;  Schleicrmacher,  Ucber  Dioijenes  von  Apollnnia  {he.  cit.)  ;  Ritler 
and  Preller,  pp.  20-23  ;  [Burnet,  pp.  79  II.  —  Tk.]. 

a  Aristotle,  Met.,  T.,  10,  2. 


24  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

§  6.     The  Problem  of  Becoming 

1.  The  first  question  that  arouses  controversy  is  the 
problem  of  becoming.  Being  persists,  beings  constantly 
change ;  they  are  born  and  they  pass  away.  How  can  being 
both  persist  and  not  persist  ?  Reflection  upon  this  problem, 
the  metaphysical  problem  par  excellence^  since  it  lies  at  the 
root  of  all  the  sciences  and  dominates  all  questions,  gives 
rise  to  three  systems,  the  types  of  all  European  philoso- 
phies, —  the  Eleatic  system ;  the  system  of  Heraclitus ;  the 
atomistic  system,  wliich  was  proclaimed  in  the  idealistic 
sense  by  the  Pythagoreans,  in  the  materialistic  sense  by 
Leucippus  and  Democritus,  and  with  a  dualistic  turn  by 
Anaxagoras.  The  first  two  are  radical;  each  suppresses 
one  of  the  terms  of  the  antinomy ;  the  third  is  a  doctrine 
of  conciliation.  According  to  the  Eleatic  hypothesis,  being 
is  everything,  change  is  but  phenomenal ;  according  to 
Heraclitus,  change  is  everything,  and  being,  or  permanence, 
is  but  an  illusion ;  according  to  the  monadists  and  atomists, 
both  permanence  and  change  exist :  permanence  in  the  he- 
ings,^  perpetual  change  in  their  relations.  The  Eleatics 
deny  becoming ;  Heraclitus  makes  a  god  of  it ;  the  atomists 
explain  it. 

A.    Negation  of  BECO]\nNG 

§  7.     Eleatic  Philosophy.     Xenophanes,  Parmenides, 
Melissus,  Zeno,  Gorgias  ^ 

At  the  time  when  Anaximander  flourished  in  Miletus, 
another  Ionian,  Xenophanes  of  Colophon,  immigrated  into 

1  Considered  by  the  Pythagoreans  as  ideal  unities  or  numbers ;  by 
the  atomists  as  real  or  material  unities. 

*  [Karsten,  Philosophorum  grcecorum  veterum  operum  reliquice,  2  vols., 
Amsterdam,  1835  f£. ;  Bergk,  Commentatio  de  Arist.  lihello  de  Xeno 
phane,  etc.,  Marburg,  1843.  —  Tr.] 


ELEATIC  PHILOSOPHY  25 

Magna  Grsecia,  travelled  through  the  cities  as  a  philosopher 
and  rhapsodist,  and  finally  settled  in  Elea  in  Lucania, 
where  he  gained  adlierents.  His  theological  innovations 
were  developed  and  systematized  by  Parmenides  of  Elea 
and  Melissns  of  Samos,  who  raised  them  to  the  dignity  of 
a  metaphysic.  Zeno  of  Elea,  the  disciple  of  Parmenides, 
undertook  to  defend  them  by  means  of  dialectics,  tliereby 
becoming  the  precursor  of  the  Sophists. 

1.  Xexophanes  1  is  a  decided  opponent  of  the  national 
mythology,  towards  which  he  assumes  a  similar  attitude 
to  that  of  the  Hebrew  prophets  who  raised  their  powerful 
voices  against  polytheism  and  its  empty  conceptions.  His 
written  and  spoken  words  proclaim  him  as  the  real  creator 
of  philosophical  monotheism,  which  he  identifies  with  pan- 
theism. With  an  eloquence  that  is  full  of  irony,  his  satires, 
some  frao-ments  of  which  are  extant,  combat  the  error  of 
those  who  infinitely  multiply  the  divine  Being,  who  attrib- 
ute to  liim  a  human  form  (anthropomorphism)  and  human 
passions  (anthropopathism).  There  is  one  God,  he  says, 
one  only  God,  comparable  to  the  gods  of  Homer  or  to  mor- 
tals neither  in  form  nor  in  thought.  This  God  is  all  eye, 
all  ear,  all  thought.  Being  immutable  and  immovable,  he 
lias  no  need  of  going  about,  now  hither,  now  thither,  in 
order  to  carry  out  his  wishes,  but  without  toil  he  governs 

1  Aristotle  (?),  De  Xenophane,  Zenone,  el  Gorgia  ;  Clement  of  Alex., 
2Tpa>fiaTa,  V.,  p.  GOl  C  ;  ibid.,  p.  711  15 ;  Bulile,  Commentatio  de  oriu  et 
profjressu  panlheisjni  inde  a  Xenophane,  etc.,  Golt.,  1790;  V.  Cousin, 
Xenophane,  fondateur  de  Vecole  d'Ele'e  (in  the  Nouveaux  frarpnents  phi- 
losophiquex),  Paris,  182S;  Kern,  Qurestiones  Xenophanece,  Naumburg, 
1846;  MuUach,  Frarjmenta,  I.,  pp.  101  ff. ;  Ritter  and  Preller,  pp.  75- 
84;  [Burnet,  pp.  115  if.];  J.  Freiidenthal,  Ueber  die  Theologie  des 
Xenophanrx,  P>roslau,  1880.  Freudouthal  bases  his  view  partly  on 
the  words  iv  roU  0(ol(n  (Mullacli,  p.  101),  and  makes  Xenophanos 
a  polytlieist.  This  is  a  strange  misconception  of  the  spirit  for  the 
letter,  and  would  be  like  reckoning  Spinoza  among  the  theists,  becausa 
he  call.s  nature  God,  and  God  a  thinking  thing. 


26  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

all  things  by  his  thought  alone.  Mortals,  of  course,  accept 
the  authority  of  Homer  and  Hesiod,  and  think  that  the  gods 
are  born  as  they  are,  and  like  them  have  feeling,  voice, 
and  body ;  and  they  ascribe  to  the  gods  all  things  that  are 
a  shame  and  disgrace  among  men,  —  theft,  adultery,  and 
falsehood.  They  do  as  the  oxen  or  lions  would  do  if  they 
could  paint:  they  would  certainly  represent  their  gods 
in  the  form  of  lions  or  oxen.  In  place  of  these  imaginary 
beings,  let  us  adore  the  one  infinite  Being,  who  bears  us  in 
his  bosom,  and  in  whom  there  is  neither  generation  nor 
corruption,  neither  change  nor  origin.^ 

2.  Parmenides  2  completes  the  teachings  of  his  master, 
and  makes  them  the  starting-point  for  a  strictly  monistic 

1  MuUach,  pp.  101-102  : 

Eis  6fos  €V  T€  6(01(71  KM  dvOpanoicn  fxeyidTOS, 
0VT€  8e'/xas  6vr]Toi(HV  ofioi'ios  ovre  v6r]fia. 

OvXos  opa,  ouXos  Se  wet,  ovXos  8f  t  uKOvei. 

*AXX*  aTrdvevde  novoio  vSov  (j)p(v\  navra  Kpabaivet. 

Atfi  S'   fV  TCIVTM  T(  p.€V(LV  KLVOVflfVOV  Ov8fV, 

ovbe  fierepxfo'dal  p.iv  ennrpeTTfi  aWore  aWr/. 

ciXXa  fipoTo\  boKiovai  deoiis  yevmadat 
T^v  iT(f>fTepr]v  T  aiadrjaiv  e'x^"'  4'^''^^  '''^  Befiai  re. 

ndvTa  Bfols  dvedrjKav   Onrfpos  ff   HcrioSo?  rf 
ocrtra  Trap'  dvdpdnroicnv  6vfi8ea  Koi  "^oyos  eariv, 
Itai  TrXeicr'  ecfiSey^avro  6fa>v  d6fni(TTia  tpya, 
KXfTTTfiu,  noL^ev€Lv  Tf  KOI  dWrjXovi  anareveiv. 

AXX'  etVot  ;(etpdy  y*  (tx°^  /3ofS  rje  Xfocrff, 
T]  ypd\j/ai  ;^fipe(Tcrt  Koi  i'pya  TfXf'iu  dnep  livhpfi, 
Xirrroi  p.iv  6'  Iitttoktu  ^oes  Se  re  ^ovaiv  o/j-oias 

Kai  K€  6(u>v  ideas  typacpop 

*  Sextus  Empiricus,  Adv.  malh.,  VII.,  Ill ;  Simplicius,  Inphys.,  f.  7, 
0,  19,  25,  31,  38 ;  Proclus,  Comment,  in  Plat.  Timceum,  p.  105 ;  Clem, 
of  Alex.,  Strom.,  V.,  pp.  552  D,  614  A ;  MuUach,  Fragm.  phil.  gr., 
I.,  pp.  109  ff.;  Ritter  and  PreUer,  pp.  85  ff.;  [Burnet,  pp.  218  ff.]. 


ELEATIC  PHILOSOPHY  27 

system.  Since  there  is  no  change  in  God,  and  since  God 
is  everything,  that  which  we  call  change  (aWoiovadaL)  is 
but  an  appearance,  an  illusion  (86^a),  and  there  is  in 
reality  neither  origin  nor  decay.  The  eternal  being  alone 
exists :  tliis  thesis  forms  the  subject  of  a  philosophical 
poem,  the  fragments  of  which  are  the  most  ancient  monu- 
ment in  our  possession  of  metaphysical  speculation  proper 
among  the  Greeks.  In  the  ih-st  part,  dedicated  to  Trutli, 
he  demonstrates  by  means  of  specious  arguments  that  our 
notions  of  change,  plurality,  and  limitation  contradict 
reason.  In  the  second  part,  which  deals  with  the  merely 
illusory,  he  attempts  to  give  an  explanation  of  nature  from 
the  standpoint  of  illusion. 

Starting  out  with  the  idea  of  being,  he  proves  that  that 
which  is  cannot  have  become  what  it  is,  nor  can  it  cease 
to  be,  nor  become  something  else  ;  for  if  being  has  begun  to 
exist,  it  has  come  either  from  being  or  non-being.  Now, 
in  the  former  case,  it  is  its  own  product,  it  has  created 
itself,  which  is  equivalent  to  saying  that  it  has  not  origi- 
nated, —  that  it  is  eternal.  The  latter  case  supposes  that 
something  can  come  from  nothing,  which  is  absurd.  For 
the  same  reasons,  that  which  exists  can  neither  change  nor 
perish,  for  in  death  it  would  pass  either  into  being  or  into 
non-being.  If  being  is  changed  into  being,  then  it  does 
not  change ;  and  to  assume  that  it  becomes  nothing  is  as 
impossible  as  to  make  it  come  from  nothing.  Consequently 
being  is  eternal.  It  is,  moreover,  immovable ;  for  it  could 
move  only  in  space ;  now  space  is  or  is  not ;  if  space  is,  it 
is  identical  with  l)eing,  and  to  say  of  being  that  it  is  moved 
in  space  is  to  say  that  being  is  moved  in  being,  which 
means  that  it  is  at  rest.  If  space  is  nothing,  there  cannot 
be  any  movement  either,  for  movement  is  possible  only  in 
space.  Hence,  movement  cannot  be  conceived  in  any  way, 
and  is  but  an  appearance.  Being  is  a  continuous  (a-vvex^) 
and  indivisible  whole.    There  is  no  void  anywhere.    There 


28  GKEEK  PHELOSOPHY 

is  no  break  between  being  and  being ;  consequently  these 
are  no  atoms.  Let  us  suppose,  for  the  sake  of  argument, 
that  there  existed  a  void,  a  break  between  the  assumed 
parts  of  the  universe.  If  this  interval  is  something  real, 
it  is  what  being  is,  it  continues  being,  instead  of  interrupt- 
ing it ;  it  unites  the  bodies  instead  of  dividing  them  into 
parts.  If  the  void  does  not  exist,  then  it  can  no  longer 
divide  them.  There  is  then  no  interval  between  being 
and  being,  and  all  beings  constitute  but  one  single  being. 
Being  (the  universe)  is  absolute  and  self-sufficient ;  it  has 
neither  desires  nor  wants  nor  feelings  of  any  kind.  If  it 
were  relative,  it  could  depend  only  on  that  which  is  or  on 
that  which  is  not.  If  being  depends  on  being,  it  depends 
upon  itself  or  is  independent ;  if  it  depends  on  that  which 
does  not  exist,  it  is  still  independent ;  which  excludes  from 
it  all  desire,  all  need,  all  feeling.  When  one  is  everything, 
one  has  no  desires.  Finally,  being  is  one;  for  a  second 
being  or  a  third  being  would  be  but  a  continuation  of  it, 
that  is,  itself.  Hence,  to  sum  up :  Being  can  only  be 
conceived  as  eternal,  immutable,  immovable,  continuous, 
indivisible,  infuiite,  unique.  There  is  for  the  thinker  but 
one  single  being,  the  All-One,  in  whom  all  individual  dif- 
ferences are  merged.  The  being  that  thinks  and  the  being 
that  is  thought  are  the  same  thing  (tcovtov  8'  eVrl  voelv  re 
Kul  ovv€K€v  icrrt  vojjfxa).^ 

In  the  second  part  of  his  poem,  Parmenides  deals  with 
opinion  (86^a)^  which  depends  on  the  senses  and  is  con- 
cerned with  what  is  merely  illusory.  The  universe,  which 
reason  conceives  as  an  indivisible  unity,  is  divided  by  the 
senses  into  two  realms  or  rival  elements :  night  or  cold ; 
and  light,  fire,  or  heat.  The  universe,  which  to  reason  is 
without  beginning  or  end,  has  its  a]3parent  origin,  its  genesis ; 
and  this  genesis  is  the  successive  victory  of  the  principle  of 

1  Simplicius  I?i  Phys.,  f.  19  A,  31  B. 


ELEATIC  PHILOSOPHY  29 

light  over  the  principle  of  darkness.  Night  is  the  mother, 
the  luminous  principle  is  the  father,  of  all  forms  {etSi]). 
The  world  shows  the  traces  of  the  two  elements  to  which 
it  owes  its  origin  even  in  its  smallest  parts.  The  warm 
and  the  cold,  the  clear  and  the  obscure,  are  universally 
combined  in  constant  proportions.  The  universe  is  com- 
posed of  a  series  of  concentric  spheres,  in  which  the  light 
and  warm  spheres  alternate  with  the  dark  and  cold  spheres. 
The  outermost  sphere,  which  encloses  all  the  rest  (to 
7re/3ie%oy),  is  solid,  cold,  and  dark ;  beneath  it  lies  the  fiery 
sphere  of  the  fixed  stars  ("OXu^ttTro?  eaxaro^).  The  central 
sphere  is  also  solid  and  cold,  but  it  is  surrounded  by  a 
sphere  of  light  and  life.  This  fiery  sphere  which  encircles 
the  solid  core  of  the  earth  is  the  source  of  movement 
(that  is,  of  illusion  i),  the  hearth  of  universal  life  (eana  rov 
iravTo^),  the  seat  of  the  Divinity  (Aaifxcov),  the  Queen  of 
the  world  (/cu/SepyjyT?/?),  Justice  (Ai'/c?;),  Necessity  (AvdyKr]), 
the  Mother  of  Love  (A(}>poBiTi]). 

These  doctrines,  which  partially  reproduce  Ionian  and 
Pythagorean  speculations,  are  not  offered  as  the  truth,  but 
as  hypotheses  intended  to  orient  us  in  the  world  of  illu- 
sion. They  have  not  for  Parmenides  the  importance  which 
they  have  for  the  louians.  Inasmuch  as  he  does  not  grant 
the  existence  of  motion,  but  rejects  as  illusory  that  which 
constitutes  the  essence  of  nature,  he  accepts  no  other  science 
than  metaphysics,  no  other  metaphysics  than  that  of  a  priori 
reasoning.  On  account  of  the  opposition  which  he  creates 
between  the  real  and  the  intelligible,  he  is  the  chief  fore- 
runner of  Platonic  idealism,  witliout,  however,  being  a  spir- 
itualist in  tlie  modern  sense.  Spiritualism  distinguishes 
between  corporeal  substance  and  soul-substance;  Eleatic 
metaphysics  makes  no  such  distinction.  Tlic  being  which 
it  allinns  is  neither  l)ody  nor  soul,  neither  matter  nor 
spirit;  it  is  being,  nulliiug  but  l)cing;  and  everything  else 

1  Cf.  tlif!  Miija  of  the  Iliiuloos,  the  luuther  of  illusions. 


30  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

is  merely  an  accident,  an  appearance,  an  illusion.  Nay,  if 
we  interpret  the  word  matter  in  the  subtle,  metaphysical 
sense  of  suhstance  or  universal  suhstratiwi,  we  may  reckon 
Parmenides  among  the  materialists,  like  his  modern  imi- 
tator Spinoza.  But  it  would  be  a  mistake  to  call  liim  a 
materialist  in  the  sense  in  which  the  term  is  applied  to 
Democritus  and  the  modern  materialists ;  for  materialism, 
properly  so-called,  exists  only  in  opposition  to  spiritualism, 
wliich  is  later  than  Parmenides.  The  monism  of  Par- 
menides and  Heraclitus  is  like  the  block  of  marble  which 
may  be  formed  into  a  basin  or  a  Jupiter,  or  like  the  mother- 
cell  from  which,  according  to  circumstances,  a  Socrates 
or  an  Erostratus  may  come ;  it  is  capable  of  being  differ- 
entiated and  developed  into  materialistic  or  spiritualistic 
monism. 

3.  Plato  deduces  idealism  from  it,  while  Melissus  of 
Samos^  (440)  interprets  it  in  an  altogether  materialistic 
sense.  This  philosopher,  who  was  also  a  brave  general  and 
a  clever  politician,  opposes  the  Ionian  cosmogonies  with 
the  Eleatic  doctrine  of  the  eternity  of  the  world.  If 
becoming  is  impossible,  it  is  henceforth  useless  and  absurd 
to  inquire  into  the  manner  in  which  the  universe  originated. 
Being  (to  6v)  is  infinite  in  time,  and  —  which  is  contrary 
to  the  view  of  Parmenides,  who  conceived  it  as  a  sphere  — 
infinite  in  spfice  {coairep  icrrl  alei^  ovrco  koI  to  fx.€jado<;  anreipov 
aid  xpv  €lvaL).  This  latter  trait,  which  leaves  no  doubt  as 
to  the  materialism  of  Melissus,  gives  his  system  a  wholly 
modern  stamp,  and  distinguishes  it  from  most  of  the  an- 
cient systems,  particularly  from  that  of  Aristotle.  For  the 
Greek,  who  judges  of  things  artistically,  regards  the  infi- 
nite as  the  imperfect,  as  without  limitation ;  and  the  uni- 
verse, which  is  the  acme  of  perfection,  is  surely  the  perfect 

1  The  author  of  a  book,  iripi  tov  ovtos  (in  the  Ionian  dialect),  quoted 
in  different  passages  by  Simplicins,  Ln  Pkys.,  f .  22,  and  paxsim ;  [Ritter 
and  Preller  pp.  106-111 ;  MuUach,  I.,  pp.  261  ff. ;  Burnet,  338  ff.  —  Tr.]. 


ELEATIC  PHILOSOPHY  31 

sphere,  one  half  of  which  is  revealed  to  us  by  the  sense  of 
sight,  and  of  which  the  earth  is  the  centre. 

4.  Zeko,^  a  pupil  and  follower  of  Parmenides,  is  the 
controversialist  of  the  school,  the  inventor  of  the  process 
of  demonstration  called  reductio  ad  ahsu?rhim,  the  father  of 
dialectics  and  sophistry.  The  One  alone  is  conceivable; 
extension,  magnitude,  motion,  and  space,  cannot  be  con- 
ceived. If  there  is  such  a  thing  as  a  (limited)  magnitude, 
it  must  be  infinitely  great  and  infinitely  small :  infinitely 
great,  because,  being  infinitely  divisible,  it  is  composed  of 
an  infinite  number  of  parts ;  infinitely  small,  because  unex- 
tended  parts,  even  though  multiplied  by  infinity,  cannot 
produce  extension  or  magnitude. 

Movement  cannot  be  conceived ;  for  the  line  which  sep- 
arates its  starting-point  from  its  point  of  rest  is  composed 
of  points,  and,  since  the  point  has  no  extension,  of  an  infi- 
nite number  of  points.  Hence  every  distance,  even  the 
smallest,  is  infinite,  and  the  stopping-point  can  never  be 
reached.  However  near  you  may  imagine  the  swift 
Achilles  to  be  to  the  slow  tortoise,  he  will  never  be  able 
to  overtake  it,  since,  in  order  to  do  so,  he  would  first  have 
to  pass  over  one  half  of  tlie  distance',  however  small,  which 
separates  him  from  the  tortoise,  and,  in  order  to  pass  over 
this  half,  he  would  first  have  to  pass  over  the  half  of  the 
half,  and  so  on  to  infinity.  The  infinite  divisibility  of  the 
line  is  for  liim  an  insurmountable  oljstacle.  You  have  an 
idea  that  the  arrow  flies  through  space.  But  in  order  to 
reach  its  destination,  it  must  pass  over  a  series  of  points  in 
space ;  lience  it  must  successively  occupy  these  diiferent 
points.  Now,  to  occupy  a  point  of  space,  at  a  given  mo- 
ment, means  to  be  at  rest :  therefore  tlie  arrow  is  at  rest 
and  its  movement  is  but  illusory. 

»  Aristotle,  Pk;/s.,  VI.,  2,  9  ;  Siinplicius,  In  IVn/s.,  f.  30,  1.30,  255; 
MuUach,  I.,  pp.  266  IT.;  Ritter  and  Preller,  pp.  100  £f.;  [Burnet,  pp. 
828  ff.]. 


32  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

Fiu-thermore,  if  movement  takes  place,  it  can  take  place 
only  in  space.  Now,  if  space  is  a  reality,  it  exists  some- 
where, that  is,  in  a  space,  which  in  turn  exists  in  another 
space,  and  so  on  ek  direipov.  Motion  is,  therefore,  impos- 
sible from  every  point  of  view,  and  we  cannot  suppose  it 
to  be  real,  unless  we  are  willing  to  affirm  an  absurdity. 
Being  alone  exists,  and  this  being  is  immutable  matter.^ 

5.  GoRGiAS  2  of  Leontinum,  the  rhetorician,  a  pupil  of 
Zeno,  who  was  sent  by  his  country  as  an  ambassador  to 
Athens  in  427,  deduces  the  ultimate  consequences  from  the 
Eleatic  principle  and  ends  in  nihilism.  He  is  not,  like 
Zeno,  content  with  denying  motion  and  space ;  as  his 
treatise,  irepl  rou  fir]  6vT0<i  rj  irepl  (f)vae(i)'?,  shoAVS,  he  negates 
being  itself.  Nothing  exists,  he  says ;  for  if  a  being  existed, 
it  would  have  to  be  eternal,  as  was  proved  by  Parmenides. 
Now,  an  eternal  being  is  infinite.  But  an  infinite  being 
cannot  exist  in  space  or  in  time  without  being  limited  by 
them.  Hence  it  is  nowhere,  and  that  which  is  nowhere 
does  not  exist.  And  even  if,  assuming  the  impossible, 
something  did  exist,  we  could  not  know  it ;  and  even  if  we 
could,  this  knowledge  could  not  in  any  wise  be  communi- 
cated to  others. 

Gorgias  is  the  enfant  terrible  of  the  Eleatic  school,  whose 
extravagances  turn  the  tide  in  favor  of  the  Heraclitean 
principle :  Being  is  nothing,  hecoming  is  everything.  The 
heing  of  Parmenides  and  Zeno,  wdiich  is  eternal  and  im- 
mutable, but  devoid  of  all  positive  attributes,  is,  in  fact,  a 
mere  abstraction.  It  resembles  the  garment  of  the  king, 
the  fine  texture  of  which  everybody  pretended  to  admire, 
until,  at  last,  a  little  child  exclaimed,  in  the  simplicity  of 
its  heart :  "  Why,  the  king  is  naked ! " 

»  Aristotle,  Met,  III.,  4,  41. 

"  Aristotle,  De  Xenophane,  Zenone,  et  Gorgla ;  Sextus  Empir.,  Adv. 
math.,  VII.,  65,  77  ;  Ritter  and  Preller,  187  ff. 


HERACLITUS  33 

B.    Apotheosis  of  Beco^shxg 
§  8.     Heraclitus 

Heraclitus,^  who,  on  account  of  his  love  of  paradox,  was 
called  the  Obscure,  flourished  at  Ephesus,  near  the  end  of 
the  sixth  centuiy.  He  has  left  a  deeper  impress  on  Greek 
thought  than  any  of  the  physicists  of  the  fii"st  period,  and 
more  than  one  modern  hypothesis  is  either  foreshadowed 
or  expressly  formulated  in  the  valuable  fragments  of  his 
book  On  Nature  (^irepl  <^vae(o<;). 

Like  the  physicists  of  Miletus,  Heraclitus  considers  all 
bodies  as  transformations  of  one  and  the  same  element. 
But  this  element  is  not,  as  with  Anaximenes,  the  atmos- 
pheric air;  it  is  a  liner,  more  subtle  substance,  which  he 
sometimes  calls  foe  (ttO/o),  sometimes  warm  breath  (■v/^i'X?;), 
and  which  resembles  either  what  physics  formerly  called 
caloric^  or  the  oxygen  of  modern  chemistry.  This  original 
matter  extends  from  the  boundaries  of  the  earth  to  tlie 
limits  of  the  world.  Everything  that  exists  is  derived 
from  it,  and  strives  to  return  to  it ;  every  being  is  trans- 
formed fire ;  and,  conversely,  every  being  may  be,  and,  as 
a  matter  of  fact,  is,  eventually  changed  into  fire.^     Atmos- 

»  Chief  sources:  Plato,  Crahjlns,  p.  402  A;  Pint.  Is.  el  Osh:,  45, 
48;  Clem,  of  Alex.,  Strom.,  V.  pp.  599,003;  Diog,  L.,  IX.;  Sext. 
Emp.,  Ado.  virith.,  VII.,  126,  127,  133;  Stolwus;  Sclileiermacher, 
Herakleitoa  der  Dunkle  von  Epheaos,  {Complete  Works,  Part  IH.,  vol.  2, 
Berlin,  1838) ;  Jac.  Bernays,  Heraclilea,  Bonn,  1848 ;  Die  HeraklitixcJien 
Br'ipfe,  Berlin,  1809;  [Las.salle,  Die  Philonophie  Herakleitos  dex  Dunkeln 
von  Ephesox,  2  vols.,  Berlin,  1858;  Teiclimiiller,  Studien  and  Neue  Stu- 
dien,  quoted  above;  E.  Pfleidorcr,  Die  Philosophie  dcs  Heraklit  von 
Ephexux,  Berlin,  1880;  G.  T.  W.  Patrick,  Hentelitttx  on  Nature,  Balti- 
more, 1889.  —  Ti:.];  Mullacli,  I.,  pp.  310  ff. ;  Ilerarliti  Ephesii  reliquio', 
collected  by  Bywater,  Oxford,  1877;  Bitter  and  Preller,  24  ff. ;  [Bur- 
net, pp.  13.3  ff.]. 

'  The  phy.sicH  of  Ileraclitu.s  reminds  one  of  the  mechanical  theory 
of  heat  taut,dit  by  modern  physics,  ■which,  like  the  sage  of  Ephesus, 
oonBiderfl  all  organic  life  as  a  transformation  of  solar  heat. 


34  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

plieric  air  and  water  are  fire  in  process  of  extinction  or  in 
process  of  renewal ;  earth  and  solids  are  extinguislied  fire, 
and  will  be  rekindled  afresh  at  the  hour  fixed  by  Fate.  Ac- 
cording to  an  immutable  law,  the  fire  of  the  heavenly  regions 
is  successively  transformed  into  vapor,  water,  and  earth,  only 
to  return  again,  in  the  opposite  direction,  to  its  principle  ; 
then  it  thickens  again,  re-ascends  into  the  heavens,  and  so 
on  ad  infinitum.  The  universe  is,  therefore,  fire  in  the 
process  of  transformation  (vri/po?  Tpoirai),  an  ever-living 
fire,  which  is  periodically  kindled  and  extinguished.  It  is 
neither  the  work  of  a  god  nor  of  a  man.  It  has  had  no  be- 
ginning, and  it  will  never  end.  There  is  an  end  of  the 
world  in  the  sense  that  all  things  ultimately  return  to  fire ; 
but  the  world  eternally  re-arises  from  its  ashes.  Universal 
life  is  an  endless  alternation  of  creation  and  destruction,  — 
a  game  which  Jupiter  plays  with  himself.  Rest,  stand-still, 
in  a  word,  being,  is  an  illusion  of  the  senses.  It  is  not 
possible  to  descend  twice  into  the  same  stream ;  i  nay,  it  is 
not  even  possible  to  descend  into  it  once ;  we  are  and  we 
are  not  in  it ;  we  make  up  our  minds  to  plunge  into  the 
waves,  and,  behold !  they  are  already  far  away  from  us.  In 
the  eternal  whirl,  the  nothing  constantly  changes  into  be- 
ing, and  being  is  incessantly  swallowed  up  in  nothingness. 
Since  non-being  produces  being,  and  vice  versa ;  being  and 
non-being,  life  and  death,  origin  and  decay,  are  the  same. 
If  they  were  not,  they  could  not  be  transformed  into  each 
other. 

The  perpetual  fiow  of  things  is  not,  as  the  expression 
might  lead  one  to  think,  an  easy  process,  like  the  gliding 
of  a  brook  over  a  bed  of  polished  stones.  Becoming  is  a 
struggle  between  contrary  forces,  between  opposing  cur- 
rents, one  of  which  comes  from  above  and  strives  to  trans- 
form the  celestial  fii'e  into  solid  matter ;  while  the  other 

1  Plato,  Cratylus,  p.  402  A  :  iravra  X<«>pfi  f«'  ovhkv  fxevei  k.  t.  X. 


HERACLITUS  35 

re-ascends  into  the  heavens,  and  strives  to  change  earth 
into  fire.  It  is  this  continuous  battle  between  two  con- 
trar}"  currents  that  produces  all  vegetable,  animal,  and 
intellectual  life  on  the  sui'face  of  the  earth.  Everything 
arises  from  the  strife  of  opposites.^  Organic  life  is  pro- 
duced by  the  male  and  the  female ;  musical  harmony,  by 
sharp  and  flat  notes ;  it  is  sickness  that  makes  us  appre- 
ciate health ;  ^dthout  exertion,  there  can  be  no  sweet 
repose ;  without  danger,  no  courage ;  without  evil  to  over- 
come, no  \drtue.  Just  as  fire  lives  the  death  of  air,  air, 
the  death  of  fu-e,  water,  the  death  of  air,  earth,  the  death 
of  water;  so,  too,  the  animal  lives  the  death  of  the  vege- 
table, man,  the  death  of  the  animal,  the  gods,  the  death 
of  man,  virtue,  the  death  of  vice,  and  vice,  the  death  of 
virtue.  Hence,  good  is  a  destroyed  evil,  evil,  a  vanished 
good ;  and  since  evil  does  not  exist  without  the  good,  nor 
the  good  without  the  evil,  evil  is  a  relative  good,  and  good 
i  relative  evil.  Like  being  and  non-being,  good  and  evil 
disappear  in  the  universal  harmon3^ 

The  emphasis  which  Heraclitus  la3S  on  the  perpetual 
flux  and  the  absolute  instability  of  things,  on  the  vanity  of 
all  in<lividual  existence,  the  impossilnlity  of  good  without 
evil,  of  pleasure  without  pain,  of  life  witliout  death,  makes 
liim  the  typical  pessimist  of  antiquity,  as  opposed  to  the 
optimist,  Democritus.2  His  negation  of  being  likewise 
implies  scepticism.^  Inasmuch  as  truth  is  the  same  to-day, 
to-morrow,  and  forever,  there  can  be  no  certain  and  final 
knowledge  if  everything  perceived  by  the  senses  constantly 
changes.     Tlie  senses,  however,  are  not  our  only  means  of 

1  Ililipolytiis,  Ref.  hfcr.  IX.,  9:  rroXf/xor  (Darwin  would  translate  it 
struf/f/le  for  life)  -ni'ivrtjiv  nuTrp  tan  kiu  jUacriXfVi. 

2  See  §  12. 

«  The  school  of  lleraclilu.s,  and  particularly  Cratylua,  the  best 
known  of  hia  diaciples  and  one  of  the  teachers  of  Plato,  taught 
scepticism. 


36  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

knowledge;  in  addition  to  them  we  have  reason  (voG?, 
\6yo<i).  The  senses  show  us  what  passes  away,  and  knowl- 
edge that  is  based  on  sensation  alone  is  deceptive  •  reason 
reveals  to  us  what  is  staljle  :  the  divine  law  (6^eto?  v6fxo<;), 
the  only  fixed  point  in  the  eternal  flow  of  things.  But 
the  most  enlightened  human  reason  is  still  as  far  removed 
from  divine  reason  as  the  ape  is  removed  from  human  per- 
fection.i  gy  distinguishing  between  the  sensible  phenome- 
non and  the  noumenon,  as  Heraclitus  did,  Ionian  philosophy 
emerges  from  the  state  of  innocence,  as  it  were ;  it  begins 
to  suspect  its  methods,  to  distrust  itself,  to  ask  itself 
whether  the  ontological  problem  can  really  be  solved  at 
all ;  in  a  word,  it  foreshadows  the  critical  question. 

Anthropology  cuts  loose  from  general  speculation  and 
begins  to  form  a  prominent  part  in  the  system  of  Hera- 
clitus. The  soul  is  an  emanation  of  the  celestial  fire, 
and  can  live  only  by  remaining  in  contact  with  this  source 
of  life.  It  is  constantly  renewed  by  means  of  respiration 
and  sensation.  Generation  is  the  transformation  of  the 
liquid  seed  into  dry  breath.  Hence  the  latent  fire  of  the 
earth  passes  through  the  liquid  state  and  returns  to  its 
original  condition  in  the  human  soul.  The  driest  breath 
constitutes  the  wisest  soul,  but  woe  to  the  drunkard  who 
prematurely  causes  Ins  soul  to  pass  back  into  the  liquid 
state !  In  death  the  breath  of  life  or  the  soul  gradually 
returns  to  earth.  An  individual's  energy  will  depend  upon 
his  more  or  less  constant  communion  with  the  celestial  fire, 
the  supremely  intelligent  and  wise  soul  of  the  world. 

Here  we  have  the  first  feeble  beginnings  of  physiological 
psychology,  and  they  are  naively  materialistic.  The  phil- 
osophy of  this  period  speaks  of  mind  as  popular  chemistry 
speaks  of  spirits  and  essences  ;  but  though  materialistic, 
it  is  so  little  aware  of  the  fact  that  it  does  not  even 
possess  a  technical  term  for  matter.  We  are  not  con- 
1  See  the  Greater  Hippias,  p.  289  A. 


THE  PYTHAGOREAN  SPECULATION  37 

scious  of  ourselves  except  in  opposition  to  what  we  are 
not.  Hylozoism  does  not  become  materialism  until  it  is 
opposed  by  the  spiritualism  of  the  Pythagoreans.^ 

To  sum  up :  All  things  proceed  from  a  dry  and  warm 
principle  and  eventually  return  to  it ;  everytliing  is  in  a 
state  of  perpetual  change,  and  there  is  nothing  immutable 
in  the  eternal  process  but  the  Law  wliich  governs  it  and 
wliich  neither  gods  nor  men  can  mochfy. 

C.    Explanation  of  Beco^ming 
8  9.     The  Pythagorean  Speculation 

Do  the  metaphysical  doctrines  of  Pythagoreanism  ^  go 
back,  in  part  at  least,  to  Pythagoras  himself?  Are  they 
the  teacliings  of  the  members  of  the  Pythagorean  order,  of 
men  like  Philolaus,  who  was  exiled  from  Italy  in  the  first 
half  of  the  fifth  century,  and  Archytas,  who  flourished  at 
Tarentum  during  the  second  half  of  that  centuiy  ?  The 
mystery  in  which  the  order  was  enshrouded  from  the 
very  beginning  makes  it  altogether  impossible  to  answer 
this  question.  Aristotle  himself  seems  to  be  in  doubt  in 
the  matter ;  he  never  speaks  of  the  teachings  of  Pythagoras, 

^  Ilippasus  of  Crotoua  (or  ^Mptapontuin)  fuses  Ileracliteaii  and 
Pythagorean  conceptions.     See  Kitter  and  Preller,  p.  -14. 

■■'  Stobaeus,  Eclog.,  I.;  Plato,  Timceua;  Aristotle,  Met.,  I.,  5  passim, 
Decalo,  II.,  13;  Diog.  L.,  VIII.;  Porjiliyry,  Life  of  Pjjthar/ams;  Juni- 
bliclius,  Life  of  Pijthagoras ;  RluUach  (P;/tha(/oreinn  carmen  aureitm, 
p.  193;  Ocelli  Lucani  de  tiniversa  nalura  libellus,  388;  1 1  ieroclis  co?n- 
menlarius  in  carmen  aurenm,  410;  Pi/lhnf/oreorwn  aliorumque  philosopho- 
rum  frarpnenla,  18;")  ff.  [vol.  II.,  pp.  9  if.]) ;  Hitter  and  Preller,  pp  .  10 
ir. ;  [Hitter,  (Jesrhic/ile  der  pi/lhrir/oreischen  P/tilosophie,  Ilaniburi;',  182(5]; 
A.  Laugel,  Pi/l/iof/ore,  sa  iloclrine  et  son  histoire  il'a/ires  hi  critique  alle- 
mantle  ( Revue  (les  Deur-Momles,  1804);  C.  Scliaarscliniidt,  Die  anf/ehliche 
Schriftstellerei  r/es  Philolnnx,  etc.,  Bonn,  1864;  Chaignet,  Ptjtliaqore  et  la 
philosophic  piflhnfforicienne,  Paris,  1873.  [See  also  Grote's  History  o 
Greece,  vol.  II.] 


38  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

but  only  of  the  Pythagoreans.  However  that  may  be, 
one  thing  is  certain :  the  first  impetus  towards  arithmetical 
speculation  known  under  the  name  of  Pythagorean  phil- 
osophy was  given  by  the  great  mathematician  of  Samos, 
and  even  though  direct  and  positive  proofs  are  wanting, 
nothing  can  liinder  us  from  proclaiming  him  as  the  origi- 
nator of  the  doctrines  set  forth  in  this  section. 

Pythagoras,  like  Thales,  of  Ionian  origin,  was  born  at 
Samos  during  the  first  half  of  the  sixth  century.  He  was 
at  first  the  pupil  of  the  theologian  Pherecydes  and  perhaps 
also  of  Anaximander,  the  physicist.  According  to  a  tradi- 
tion which,  it  must  be  confessed,  has  nothing  to  warrant  it 
among  the  ancients,  he  visited  Phoenicia,  Egypt,  and  Baby- 
lon, where  he  was  initiated  into  the  Eastern  theological 
speculations,  and  introduced  to  the  study  of  geometry, 
which  had  already  attained  a  liigh  degree  of  perfection  on 
its  native  soil.  Returning  to  Greece  aljout  520,  he  realized 
his  ideals  of  religious,  social,  and  philosopliical  reform  at 
Crotona  in  ^lagna  Grsecia,  l)y  founding  a  kind  of  brother- 
hood, the  members  of  which  entertained  the  same  opinions 
concerning  morality,  politics,  and  religion.^ 

1  "When  we  compare  the  doctrines,  aims,  and  organization  of  this 
brotherhood,  as  portrayed  by  the  Xeo-Platonic  historians  (especially 
Jamblichus),  with  Buddhistic  monachisra,  we  are  almost  tempted 
(with  Alexander  Polyhistor  and  Clement  of  Alexandria)  to  regard 
Pythagoras  as  the  pupil  of  the  Brahmans,  nay,  to  identify  him  with 
Buddha  himself.  Indeed,  not  only  do  the  names  (J1v6mv,  Uvdayopas 
=  an  inspired  one,  a  soothsayer,  and  Buddha  =  enlightened)  bear  such 
close  resemblance  to  each  other  that  even  the  most  fastidious  philol- 
ogist can  find  no  objection  in  translating  Uvdayopeios  by  "  preacher  of 
Buddhism,"  but  the  P\i;hagoreau  and  Buddhistic  teachings  are  very 
much  alike.  Dualism,  pessimism,  metempsychosis,  celibacy,  a  common 
life  according  to  rigorous  rules,  frequent  self- examinations,  medita- 
tions, devotions,  prohibitions  against  bloody  sacrifices  and  animal 
nourishment,  kindliness  towards  all  men,  ti'uthfulness,  fidelity,  justice, 
—  all  these  elements  are  common  to  both.  The  fact  that  most  ancient 
authors  and  above  all  Aristotle  himself  have  comparatively  little  to  say 


THE  PYTHAGOREAN  SPECULATION         39 

Nothing  certain  is  known  of  the  end  of  the  philosopher. 
His  work  prospered.  The  Pythagoreans  were  the  posses- 
sors of  all  the  sciences  known  in  their  time,  —  geometrj^, 
astronomy,  music,  and  medicine,^  —  and  consequently  ac- 
quired an  overpowering  influence  among  the  Doric  people, 
who  were  less  advanced  than  the  lonians.  They  pre- 
ponderated at  Crotona,  at  Tarentum,  and  in  the  Sicilian 
republics,  until  the  middle  of  the  fifth  century,  when  the 
victorious  democracy  partly  expelled  them.  The  exiles 
repaired  to  Thebes  or  to  Athens.  Here  their  influence 
counteracted  that  of  the  Sophists,  and  brought  about  the 
spiritualistic  reaction  of  Socrates  and  Plato  against  the 
materialism  and  scepticism  which  had,  in  the  same  epoch, 
been  imported  from  Sicily,  Tlu-ace,  and  Ionia. 

Ionian  metaphysics  springs  from  physics ;  Pythago- 
rean metaphysics  is  grafted  on  mathematics,  and  is  conse- 
quently totally  different  from  the  former  at  the  very  outset. 
What  interests  the  philosophers  of  Miletus  is  matter  and  its 

concerning  the  person  and  life  of  Pythagoras,  would  tend  to  confirm 
the  hypothesis  of  the  identity  of  Pythagoreanisni  and  Buddhism. 
However,  the  existence  of  Pythagoras,  the  mathematician,  five  centu- 
ries before  the  Christian  era,  is  placed  beyond  doultt  by  the  testimony 
of  Heraclitiis,  Herodotus,  etc.  Furthermore,  Buddhism  in  the  form 
of  Manicha;ism  (that  is  to  say,  monachism)  did  not  begin  to  spread 
westward  before  the  third  century  of  our  era.  We  may  perhaps  ex- 
plain everything  satisfactorily  by  distinguishing  between  the  Pytha- 
goroanism  of  the  Neo-Platonic  historians  and  primitive  and  genuine 
Pythaforeanism.  Tlie  biographers  of  Pythagoras  were  without  exact 
and  sufficient  data  regarding  the  life  and  work  of  the  sage  of  Samos, 
and  somewhat  unscrupulous,  besides,  in  the  choice  of  then-  sources. 
They  likewise  allowed  themselves  to  be  misled  by  certain  analogies ; 
the  essential  features  of  their  imaginary  portrait  are  derived  from 
Persian  dualism  and  Hindoo  pessimism. 

1  These  sciences,  which  constituted  tlie  subjfct-matter  of  Pythago- 
rean instruction,  were  called  fiadnfinra,  —  the  term  from  wliich  tlic  word 
mathematics  is  derived.  The  original  meaning  of  the  word  omliracoo 
the  totality  of  human  knowledge, 


40  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

perpetual  movement;  what  impresses  Pythagoras  and  the 
Pythagoreans  is  the  immaterial  in  matter,  the  order  which 
prevails  in  the  world,  the  unity,  proportion,  and  harmony 
in  its  contrasts,  the  mathematical  relations  underlying  all 
thino-s.  In  geometry,  in  astronomy,  and  in  music,  every- 
thing is  ultimately  reduced  to  number.  Hence  number  is 
the  principle  and  innermost  essence  of  the  world;  and 
things  are  sensible  numbers.  Every  being  represents  a 
number,  and  the  final  goal  of  science  is  to  find  for  each 
beino-  the  number  for  which  it  stands.  The  infinite  series 
of  numbers,  and  consequently  of  things,  is  derived  from 
unity.  As  number  is  the  essence  of  things,  unity  is  the 
essence  of  number.  Pythagoreanism  distinguishes  two 
Ivinds  of  unities :  (1)  the  Unity  from  which  the  series  of 
numbers  (Ijeings)  is  derived,  and  which  therefore  contains 
and  comprehends  them  all;  the  absolute  and  unopposed 
unity,  the  Monad  of  monads  (?}  /xom?),  the  God  of  gods  ; 
and  (2)  the  One,  the  first  in  the  series  of  derived  numbers, 
which  is  opposed  to  the  numbers  tioo,  tJvree,  and  every  plu- 
rality (yr\i]9o<i^,  and  consequently  limited  by  the  two,  the 
three,  and  the  plurality;  it  is  a  relative  unity,  a  created 
monad  (^to  eV).  The  opposition  between  the  07ie  and  the 
majii/  is  the  source  of  all  the  rest.  All  the  contrasts  of 
nature,  the  dry  and  the  moist,  the  Avarm  and  the  cold,  the 
clear  and  the  obscure,  the  male  and  the  female,  the  good 
and  the  evil,  the  finite  {Treirepaa- [xevov)  and  the  infinite 
(diretpov),  are  but  varieties  of  the  ev  and  the  ttXt/^o?,  or 
of  the  odd  (jrepmov)  and  the  even  {apnov).  Plurality 
as  such  is  without  consistency  and  may  be  divided  into 
unities;  the  even  number  is  reducible  to  the  odd  unit. 
The  absolute  unity  is  neither  even  nor  odd  ;  or  rather,  it  is 
as  yet  both  even  and  odd,  singular  and  plural,  God  and 
the  world.  It  is  to  Pythagoreanism  what  the  aireipov  is  in 
the  system  of  Anaximander:  the  neuter  being  that  is 
superior   and   anterior   to   sexual   contrasts,    the   absolute 


THE   PYTHAGOREAN   SPECULATION  41 

indifference  which  precedes  and  creates  the  dualism  of 
forces  and  elements.  But  the  Pythagoreans  guard  against 
calling  it  aireipov^  since  the  aireipov  is,  according  to  them, 
opposed  to  the  irepaivov^  as  passivity  to  activity,  or  matter 
to  the  workman,  or  form,  or  plastic  principle.  Inasmuch  as 
everything  is,  according  to  them,  reduced  to  number,  nu- 
merical relations,  and  ultimately  to  Idea,  the  matter  and 
motion  of  the  lonians  are,  in  their  opinion,  merely  negative, 
the  absence  of  ideal  unity.  Concerning  the  question  of 
movement  and  origin,  the  conclusions  of  the  Pythagoreans 
do  not  differ  from  the  Eleatic  doctrines.  Movement  and 
origin  seem  to  be  incompatible  with  their  idealism.  Al- 
though they  have  their  own  cosmogony,  like  the  other 
schools  of  the  period,  they  do  not  assume  that  the  universe 
had  a  beginning  in  time,  and  consequently  that  there  was 
a  time  wlien  the  universe  did  not  exist.  The  world  has 
existed  e|  a/ww?  kuI  ek  aiMva,  and  the  cosmogony  simply 
aims  to  explain  the  order,  law,  or  series,  according  to  which 
things  eternally  emanate  from  their  principle. 

Pythagorean  physics  therefore  accommodates  itself  to 
human  sensualism,  just  like  the  physics  of  Parmenides.  It 
makes  what  is  in  itself  immutable,  variable.  It  places  itself 
on  the  sensualistic  standpoint  held  by  the  novices  among  its 
followers  (aKovaixarLKoi),  and  represents  the  eternal  unity 
as  a  sphere  {r)  rod  7ravTo<;  a(^alpa),  as  a  compact  sphere,  in 
which  ihe  parts  are  not  distinguished  (irXrjpe^;,  avvex^<i\ 
and  which  floats  in  the  infinite  (aireipov).  The  ideal  opposi- 
tion l)etween  the  even  and  the  odd,  the  one  and  tlie  many, 
becomes  the  real  o])position  of  the  full  and  the  void.  At 
the  origin  of  things,  the  full  was  without  the  voi<l,  oi',  at 
least,  the  void  was  external  to  it.  The  foimation  of  the 
cosmos  Ijegins  by  the  vend  l)reaking  in  upon  the  full. 
This  process  is  like  a  perpetual  breath  which  iinilates  the 
world  (tti/o/;,  irvevpa).  The;  void  penetrates  the  a<^alpa 
and  establishes  itself  in  it,  thereljy  breaking  it  up  into  au 


42  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

infinite  number  of  infinitesimal  particles,  reduced  images  of 
the  (T(f>aLpa  (the  ciro/xa  of  the  atomists).  Since,  from  the 
geometrical  point  of  view,  quality  is  reduced  to  quantity 
and  form,  these  particles  differ  only  in  quantity  and  in 
figure.  They  form  either  cubes  or  pyramids  (tetrahedrons) 
or  octahedrons  or  icosahedrons  or  dodecahedrons.  The 
unity  reacts  against  this  endless  separation,  and  the  parti- 
cles are  joined  together  again  according  to  their  geometric 
affinities  and  form  elementary  bodies:  earth,  fire,  air,- water, 
and  etlier.  Fire  is  the  element  par  excellence^  being  formed 
of  tetrahedric  particles.  It  is  the  symbol  of  the  divine 
principle  in  nature  and  is  concentrated  into  a  central  sun, 
the  hearth  of  the  universe  and  the  abode  of  the  Supreme 
God  {karla  rov  iravTO'i),  around  which  revolve  (1)  tlie  Oura- 
nos,  embracing  the  coufiter-earth  (avrix^av)  and  the  earth ; 
(2)  the  Cosmos  proper,  consisting  of  the  moon,  the  sun  (?) 
and  the  planets ;  (3)  the  Olympus  with  the  fixed  stars. 
Pythagoras  substitutes  for  the  earth  a  central  fire  (which 
is  invisible  because  the  earth  keeps  facing  it  with  the  part 
that  is  opposite  to  the  one  we  inhabit),  and  makes  the  earth 
revolve  around  this  centre.  But  tliis  does  not  mean,  of 
course,  that  he  advanced  the  heliocentric  theory ;  he  merely 
foreshadowed  the  system  which  his  school  formulated 
during  the  following  centuries  without  succeeding  in  hav- 
ing it  accepted  by  the  majority  of  scientists.  The  distances 
separating  the  spheres  are  proportional  to  the  numbers 
which  express  the  relations  that  exist  between  tones  and 
the  respective  lengths  of  vibrating  strings ;  and  the  result 
of  their  revolutions  around  the  axis  of  the  world  is  a  divine 
harmony  which  the  musical  genius  alone  can  perceive. 
This  harmony  is  the  soul  of  the  universe.  The  different 
beings  form  an  ascending  scale  according  to  the  degree  of 
perfection  with  which  they  reflect  the  universal  harmony. 
The  motion  of  the  elementary  being,  the  physical  point, 
produces  the  line ;  the  line  moves  and  produces  the  plane ; 


THE  PYTHAGOREAN  SPECULATION  43 

the  plane  produces  the  body,  from  which  sensation,  percep- 
tion, and  intelligence  gradually  arise  (emanation). 

The  individual  is  mortal  in  so  far  as  he  springs  from  the 
temporary  union  of  corporeal  elements,  according  to  a  ratio 
that  varies  witliin  certain  limits.  When  these  limits  are 
passed,  proportion  becomes  disproportion,  an  unequal  strug- 
gle, disease,  decay,  and  death.  But  the  ideal  contents  of 
the  broken  vase  are  secure  against  destruction.  The  soul 
is  a  fixed  number  in  the  eternal  scale  of  things,  a  portion 
of  the  world-soul,  a  spark  of  the  celestial  fire,  a  thought  of 
God.  In  this  respect  it  is  immortal;  at  death  it  enters 
upon  a  state  that  is  superior  or  inferior  to  our  present  life 
or  like  it,  according  as  the  soul  has  lived  for  God,  for  the 
world,  or  for  itself  (metempsychosis  and  palingenesis). 

Although  the  Pythagoreans,  like  Parmenides  and  Hera- 
clitus,  accentuate  one  of  the  constitutive  elements  of  reality 
and  eventually  negate  concrete  existence  in  order  to  exalt 
the  Idea,  they  none  the  less  introduce  into  Greek  thought 
one  of  the  most  important  factors  in  the  solution  of  the 
Eleatic-Heraclitean  problem:  What  is  becoming  or  the 
process  of  perpetual  change  affirmed  by  the  philosopher 
of  Ephesus,  and  how  can  it  be  reconciled  with  the  con- 
ception of  the  permanence  and  immutability  of  matter, 
which  is  advanced,  no  less  authoritatively,  by  the  school  of 
Elea?  We  mean  their  theory  of  monads  :  the  infinitosimal 
particles  or  physical  points  of  which  matter  is  made  up. 
The  subsequent  systems  all  attempt  to  reconcile  Elea  and 
Ei)hesus  by  means  of  the  physico-arithmetical  theory  of 
elementary  units.  Thought  discovers  in  the  atomistic 
hypothesis  the  middle  term  that  unites  Parmenides,  who 
denies  the  great  empirical  fact  of  generation  and  change, 
and  Heraclitus^  who  sacrifices  being  and  its  permanence  to 
becoming,  —  tliereby  combining  the  two  rival  systems  into 
a  liigher  synthesis,  —  and  lays  the  foundation  for  every 
rational  explanation  of  the  process  of  becoming.     Hence- 


44  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

forth  philosophy  no  longer  regards  matter  as  a  continuous 
mass,  the  essential  properties  of  which  are  incessantly 
transformed.  It  breaks  them  up  into  parts  that  are  in 
themselves  immutable,  but  which  continually  change  their 
relative  positions.  As  a  consequence,  there  can  be  both 
perpetual  change  in  the  aspects  of  matter  (bodies)  and  per- 
manence in  the  essence  and  properties  of  matter.  All 
change  is  reduced  to  change  of  j)lace :  mechanism. 

Empedocles,  Anaxagoras,  and  Democritus,  who  hold  this 
theory,  differ  from  each  other  as  Heraclitus,  Pythagoras, 
and  Anaximander  differ  among  themselves  ;  that  is  to  say, 
the  first  makes  motion,  the  second,  the  Idea  (i^ou?),  the 
third,  matter,  the  keystone  of  his  system. 

§  10.      Empedocles 

Empedocles,!  of  Agrigentum,  in  Sicily  (450),  who  in 
consequence  of  his  knowledge  of  medicine,  the  cures  which 
he  effected,  and  the  mystery  with  which  he  loved  to  sur- 
round himself,  was  regarded  as  a  magician  and  a  god,  is  the 
author  of  a  grand  philosophical  poem,  the  fragments  of 
which  seem  to  place  him  in  an  intermediate  position 
between  the  Eleatics  and  the  lonians. 

He  sides  with  the  Eleatics  in  his  denial  of  becoming,  as 
Heraclitus  understands  it ;  and  approaches  the  lonians  in 
assuming  the  reality  of  motion.  Matter  is  immutable  in 
its  essence,  but  bodies  are  in  a  state  of  constant  change ; 
their  constituent  elements  are  combined  and  separated  in 
different  proportions.  We  cannot  conceive  how  fire  as 
such  can  become  air,  air,  water,  and  so  on ;  Init  it  is  con- 

1  Sext.  Emp.,  Adv.  math.,  VTL,  123;  Simplicius,  In  PJn/s.,  f.  24, 
f.  76;  Plutarch,  De  plac.  pJnl;  Aristotle  (Met.,  Phys.,  and  Psychology), 
etc.;  Fragments  of  Empedocles,  collected  by  A.  Peyron  (Leipsic,  1810), 
S.  Karsten  (Relii/mce  pUl  vet.  gr.,  vol.  IT.,  Amst.,  1838),  Th.  fBergk 
(Leipsic,  1843),  II.  Stein  (Bonn,  1852),  Mullach  (I.,  pp.  1  ff.),  Rittei 
and  PreUer  (pp.  125  ff.)  ;  [Burnet,  pp.  218  ff.]. 


EMPEDOCLES  45 

ceivable  that  the  thousand  different  combinations  of  these 
elements  should  produce  an  infinite  variety  of  bodies. 
Hence  we  must  abandon  the  notion  of  elementary  unity ; 
we  must  cease  deriving  air  from  ether,  water  from  air, 
earth  from  water,  and  consider  these  four  elements  as 
equally  original. 

Hsi\e  the  fo^ir  elements  {arofxela)  movement  of  their  own, 
or  have  they  received  it  from  a  distinct  principle,  from  a 
Irigher  force?  It  is  hard  to  separate  the  thought  of  the 
philosopher  from  his  poetical  phraseology,  encumbered  as  it 
is  by  images  and  contradictions.  We  may,  it  seems,  con- 
clude from  his  poem  that  he  no  longer  assumes  hylozoism, 
the  eternity  of  motion,  and  the  original  vitality  of  matter  in 
the  same  sense  as  the  Ionian  physicists.  He  appears  to 
explain  movement  by  an  immaterial  principle,  or  rather,  by 
two  distinct  immaterial  principles,  one  of  which  unites  the 
elements,  while  the  other  separates  them:  Love  {(f)iXia, 
^fXoT?;?,  aTopyrj)  or  the  principle  of  union,  and  Discord 
(veiKO'i,  epL<;,  e;^^o?),  the  principle  of  separation.^  These  two 
motive  causes,  which  the  imagination  of  the  poet  interprets 
as  opposing  divinities,  alternately  rule  the  elements.  Love 
first  unites  them  and  forms  them  into  a  single  spherical 
body  {(r(f)alpo<;).  Discord  ensues  and  divides  them ;  as  a 
result,  the  earth,  the  ocean,  the  atmosphere,  the  heavenly 
ether,  and  the  stars  arise.  This  period  of  })rimitive  crea- 
tion, which  is  tlie  A\'ork  of  Discord,  is  followed  by  an  epoch 
of  struggle  between  Discord  and  Love,  during  which 
plants,  animals,  and  men  originate.  Discord  lias,  in  sepa- 
rating the  elements,  prepared  for  each  class  of  beings  the 
habitation  adapted  to  them,  l)ut  it  coidd  not  form  tlie  organ- 
isms themselves,  which  are  a  mixture  of  the  four  elcmoits 
and  consecpiently  tlie  work  of  the  unifying  i)rinciple,  the 
product  of  Love  reacting  against  tli(;  exclusive  sway  of  vVn- 

^  Nowaflays  we  should  us<j  the  terms  attraction  and  niitilsion.  The 
cosmogony  of  KmiMidocles  contains  the  germ  of  Kant's. 


46  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

tipatliy.  Although  the  two  principles  are  now  at  war  with 
each  other,  Love  will  ultimately  gain  the  victory,  and  the 
four  spheres  of  the  world,  which  are  at  present  separated, 
will,  on  the  last  day,  be  combined  into  a  new  chaos.  This 
alternation  between  periods  of  separation  and  periods  of 
union  is  a  fatal  necessity,  and  will  go  on  forever. 

Like  Anaximander  and  Heraclitus  before  him,  Empe- 
docles  explains  the  origin  of  beings  by  the  process  of 
evolution,  but  he  explains  it  in  his  own  way.  Their 
organs,  he  believes,  first  arose  as  shapeless  and  discon- 
nected rudiments,  then  disappeared  and  reappeared,  sepa- 
rated and  reunited,  until,  at  last,  they  were  adapted  to 
each  other  and  joined  together  for  good.  The  first  forma- 
tion of  these  beings  was  the  result  of  chance  ;  but  their 
preservation,  proficiency,  and  development  were  due  to  the 
fitness  which  they  ultimately  attained.^  Our  philosopher 
also  regards  individual  existence  as  a  doubtful  good.  He 
is,  therefore,  the  precursor  of  Schopenhauer  as  well  as  of 
Darwin.  With  Heraclitus  and  Hippasus,  he  identifies  the 
soul  with  the  fiery  principle.  Discord  detached  it  from 
the  a^atpo';,  in  which  it  originally  existed,  mixed  with 
all  the  other  beings.  Like  the  rest,  it  will  eventually 
return  thither.  Life  is  the  expiation  of  the  soul's  desire 
for  a  separate  existence.  Passing  through  the  stages  of 
plant,  animal,  and  man,  it  rises  by  degrees,  and,  by  absti- 
nences, fasts,  and  continent  living,  finally  again  becomes 
worthy  of  returning  to  God.  The  propagation  of  the  hu- 
man species  is  an  evil,  since  it  perj^etuates  the  actual  state 
of  things  and  retards  their  return  to  the  original  unity .^ 

1  MuUach,  pp.  315,  316. 

2  The  same  views  are  held  by  Anaximander,  who  regards  death  as 
an  expiation;  by  Plato,  who  despises  the  world  of  sense,  and  eagerly 
desires  the  return  to  the  realm  of  pure  ideas ;  by  Plotinus  of  Lyco- 
polis,  who  is  ashamed  of  his  body  and  the  manner  in  which  he  entered 
into  the  world.  The  religious  conceptions  of  the  fall,  of  original  sin 
and  expiation  are  familiar  to  Aryan  Europe  as  well  as  to  Asia. 


EMPEDOCLES  47 

Man  is  the  image  of  the  a(f)alpo<i.  The  four  radical  elements 
are  represented  in  him :  the  earthly  element,  by  the  solid 
parts  of  the  body ;  water,  by  its  liquid  parts ;  air,  by  the 
vital  breath  ;  fire,  by  the  spirit.  He  is  likewise  affected  by 
Love  and  Hate.  His  intellectual  superioritj^  follows  from 
the  fact  that  all  the  cosmical  elements  are  concentrated  in 
him.  He  perceives  everything,  because  he  is  everything ; 
he  perceives  solids  because  he  is  earth ;  liquids,  because  he 
is  water ;  and  so  on.  We  have  here  a  theory,  or  let  us  rather 
say,  the  beginnings  of  a  theory  of  sensation  that  might  be 
called  homceojjathic  as  distinguished  from  the  allopatliism 
of  Anaxagoras.  The  latter  derives  sensation  from  the 
coming-together  of  contraries;  according  to  Empedocles, 
sensation  results  from  the  contact  of  similars.  The  blood, 
in  which  the  four  elements  are  most  closely  mingled,  is  the 
seat  of  sensation  and  of  the  soul.  This  is  proved  by  the 
fact  that  when  we  withdraw  all  the  blood  from  the  body 
we  deprive  it  of  sensation,  consciousness,  life,  —  in  a  word, 
of  soul.  The  health  of  a  man  depends  on  the  composition 
of  his  blood.  "We  are  health}"  and  good  wlien  our  blood  is 
normally  composed  (/xeo-?;  Kpaai^).  The  blood  is  sacred, 
and  ought  not  to  serve  as  noui-ishment.  In  these  doctrines, 
which  remind  us  of  Egypt,  Moses,  Buddha,  and  Zoroaster, 
we  see  the  dawn,  as  it  were,  of  modern  pliysiology. 

In  his  theology,  Empedocles  conceals  his  naturalism 
under  the  traditional  forms  of  mythology.  He  deifies  — 
in  name  onlj,  not  actually,  like  popular  belief  —  the 
four  elements,  which  he  calls  Zeus,  Hera,  Orcus,  and 
Nestis,  and  the  two  motive  principles.  Love  and  Discord. 
But  we  find  in  Empedocles,  alongside  of  liis  tlieological 
atomism  and  naturalized  polytheism,  Eleatic  monism  and 
the  tendency  to  reduce  elements  and  j)rinciples  to  a  liiglier 
unity,  which  is  tlie  only  true  God.  Love  is  the  principle 
of  principles  ;  the  four  elements  are  merely  its  agents,  and 
Discord  itself  its  indispensable  accomplice  :  it  is  the  inef- 


48  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

fable,  invisible,  incorporeal  God,  flashing  through  the  whole 
world  with  rapid  thoughts.^ 

The  leading  thought  in  the  teaching  of  Empedocles, 
freed  from  its  theological  shell,  meets  us  again  in  the  sys- 
tem of  the  Ionian  Anaxagoras.  Anaxagoras  is  the  founder 
of  corpuscular  physics,  and,  by  his  hypothesis  of  the  order- 
ing vov<i,  anticipates  the  teleology  of  Plato  and  Aristotle. 


§  11.     Anaxagoras 

Anaxagoeas  2  was  born  at  Clazomense  in  Ionia,  of  an 
illustrious  family.  He  seems  to  have  emigrated  to  Athens 
about  460,  and  to  have  been,  for  thirty  years,  the  central 
figure  in  this  new  intellectual  centre  of  Greece.  His 
friendship  for  Pericles,  Euripides,  and  Protagoras,  and  his 
profound  contempt  for  the  official  religion  made  it  neces- 
sary for  him  to  retire  to  Lampsacus  towaids  tlie  close  of 
his  life.  Here  he  died  about  429  B.  c.  Like  the  majority 
of  the  great  physicists  of  antiquity,  he  left  a  book  irepl 
^vaeoj'iy  a  few  fragments  of  which  are  still  extant. 

Anaxagoras  opposes  Heraclitus  in  two  essential  points : 

1.  He  opposes  his  dynamism  with  a  mechanical  cos- 
mogony. 

2.  He  substitutes  dualism  for  hylozoistic  monism,  as- 
suming the  existence  of  an  unintelligent,  inert  substance 
and  of  an  intelligent  principle,  the  cause  of  motion. 

1  MuUach,  p.  12,  V.  395:  — 

^pijv  ifpfj  Koi  d6tiT(f)aTOs  enXfTo  fiovvov 
(ppovTicn.  Kt'iafxov  airavra  KaraLcrcrovaa  6of)cn,v. 

2  Aristotle,  Met.,  I.,  3 ;  passim ;  Simplicius,  In  Phijs.,  f.  33,  34,  35, 
38;  Diog.  Laertius  ;  Fm^men^s  collected  by  Schaiibach  (Leipsic,  1827), 
Schorn  (Bonn,  1829),  MuUach  (I.,  pp.  243  ff.),  Ritter  and  Preller  (pp. 
112  ff.)  ;  [Burnet  (pp.  282  ff.)  ;  Breier,  Die  Philosophie  des  Anaxagoras, 
Berlin,  1840] ;  Zevort,  Dissertation  sur  la  vie  el  la  doctrine  d' Anaxagore, 
Paris,  1848. 


ANAXAGORAS  49 

1.  The  Materials  of  the  Cosmogony.  —  Mattel 
cannot  be  reduced  to  a  single  element,  to  a  homogeneous 
substance,  like  water,  aii-,  or  fii*e,  that  may  be  transformed 
into  other  substances.  It  is  inconceivable  how  a  substance 
can  become  another  substance.  Hence  there  are  several 
primitive  elements,  and  not  only  four,  as  Empedocles 
teaches ;  nay,  there  is  an  iniinite  number  of  them.  These 
germs  of  things  (jjirepixara)  are  infinite  in  number  and 
infinitely  small  (^(^pii'-j^aTa  airetpa  koI  irXriOo^  koI  a-fJUKpo- 
r}]ra),  uncreated,  indestructible,  and  absolutely  unchange- 
able in  essence.  The  quantity  of  these  fii'st  principles  is 
always  the  same;  nothing  can  be  destroyed  or  added 
(jravra  laa  aei  .  .  .  ael  Travra  ovSev  iXdcrao)  ecrrlv  ovSe 
TrXetoj) ;  they  change  neither  in  quality  nor  in  quantity. 
Nothing  comes  into  being  or  passes  away.  Our  usual 
notions  of  birth  (coming-into-being)  and  death  (passing- 
away)  are  absolutely  VvTong.  Nothing  is  produced  ex 
nihilo,  and  nothing  is  lost ;  things  are  formed  by  the  com- 
bination of  pre-existing  germs,  and  disappear  by  the  disin- 
tegration of  these  germs,  which  still  continue  to  exist. 
Hence  it  would  be  better  to  call  coming  into  being,  mixture, 
and  j^assing  away  or  death,  separation}  There  is  no  other 
change  except  change  of  place  and  grouping,  external  meta- 
morphosis, movement;  the  notion  of  change  of  essence  or 
ti-ansubstantiation  is  a  contradiction. 

2.  Efficient  and  Fiscal  Causes  of  the  Cos- 
mogony. —  Anaxagoras  no  longer  regards  the  motion 
which  produces  and  destroys  things  as  an  original  and 
eternal  reality,  inherent  in  the  very  nature  of  the  ele- 
ments. The  latter  are  inert  and  incapable  of  moving  by 
themselves.     Hence   they   cannot  account  for  the  move- 

*  Simplicins,  In  Phya.,  3 1  :  To  5f  yli'taffat  koi  dnoWvirdni  ovk  6p6uyi 
vofii^ovniv  ol  "EXXfjz/ff  ■  ov^iv  ya/)  )(f)rifin  ovi^e  ytverai  ov^e  unoWvrai,  aXX' 
anb  (i')VT<t)V  ^(prjiiuTOiiv  (TvfXixioytTdl  re  kui  SinAcpiVfrai.  Km  oiTcof  3i/  opdSit 
KoXoitv  TO  T(  yivtaOai  avpiiia-ytadai,  koi  to  dnoXXvaOai  SiaKpiutadai, 

4 


50  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

ment  in  the  woi-ld  and  the  order  which  rules  it.  In  order 
to  explain  the  cosmos,  we  must  assume,  in  addition  to  the 
material,  inert,  and  unintelligent  elements,  an  element 
that  possesses  a  force  and  intelligence  of  its  own  {vov<;). 
This  element  of  elements  is  absolutely  simple  and  homo- 
geneous ;  it  is  not  mixed  with  the  other  elements,  but  is 
absolutely  distinct  from  them.  The  latter  are  wholly 
passive ;  the  vov'i,  however,  is  endowed  with  spontaneous 
activity;  it  is  perfectly  free  {avTOKparr}^)^  and  the  source 
of  all  movement  and  life  in  the  world.  The  inferior  ele- 
ments have  no  consciousness  of  their  own ;  the  mind 
knows  all  things  past,  present,  and  future ;  it  has  ariunged 
and  organized  everything  with  design  and  according  to 
its  teleological  htness ;  it  is  the  eternal  governor  of  the 
universe,  more  powerful  than  all  the  other  elements  put 
together. 

3.  Cosmogony.  —  In  the  beginning,  the  inert  and 
unintelligent  elements  were  all  jumbled  together  {ojjlov 
irdvTo).  In  this  original  chaos  (/jLiyfia),  everything  was 
in  everything :  gold,  silver,  air,  ether,  all  things  which  are 
now  separated,  formed  an  indeterminate  and  inert  mass. 
The  intelligent  substance  alone  lived  a  distinct  life  of  its 
own.  Then  it  entered  the  chaos  and  disentangled  it,  mak- 
ing the  cosmos  out  of  it  (elra  vov'i  iXOcov  iravra  8l€k6- 
a/xTjae).  The  germs,  being  set  in  motion  by  the  Nous,  were 
separated  and  mingled  together  again  according  to  their 
inner  affinities.  From  the  point  where  movement  is  im- 
parted to  the  chaos,  the  whirling  motion  (Slvo<;)  gradually 
extends  over  a  wider  and  wider  space  to  all  parts  of  the 
world ;  it  continues,  as  is  proved  by  the  rotation  of  the 
heavens,  and  will  continue  without  interruption  until 
the  fity/jia  is  completely  separated.  Our  earth  is  a  cylin- 
drical body  and  is  composed  of  the  heaviest  germs,  which 
were  carried  towards  the  centre  of  the  world  by  the  orig- 
inal motion.     The  lighter  corpuscles,  which  form  water, 


ANAXAGORAS  51 

were  deposited  upon  this  solid  mass ;  higher  up,  the  atmo- 
sphere is  formed  by  the  germs  of  air ;  at  last,  in  the 
heavenly  regions,  the  most  subtle  elements,  the  tier}- 
ether,  are  mixed  together  again.  A  second  separation  of 
elements  takes  place,  and  the  original  motion  parts  off  from 
the  earth  the  different  solid,  mineral,  and  other  bodies 
which  compose  it;  from  the  water  it  parts  off  the  differ- 
ent liquids,  and  so  on,  until  our  central  world  receives 
the  shape  which  it  now  has.  The  stars  are  solid  masses, 
which  were  torn  from  the  earth  by  the  rotatory  motion 
originally  possessed  by  it  in  common  with  the  rest  of  the 
universe,  and  which  were  ignited  by  coming  in  contact 
witli  tlie  celestial  ether.  The  sun  is  a  fiery  mass,  fMv8po<; 
hidirvpo^.  The  moon  has  mountains  and  valleys  in  it,  and 
borrows  its  light  from  the  sun. 

The  views  Avliich  we  have  just  expounded  forecast  the 
cosmogonic  theories  of  Buffon,  Kant,  and  Laplace.  Anaxa- 
goras  also  anticipates  comparative  physiology  by  advancijig 
the  principle  of  the  continuity  of  beings,  by  pointing  out 
the  unity  of  purpose  in  the  diverse  vegetable  and  animal 
types.  In  spite  of  all  that  has  been  said,  however,  he  is  so 
far  from  being  a  spiritualist  in  the  Cartesian  sense  of  the 
term,  that  he  conceives  animals,  and  even  plants,  as  sharing 
in  tlie  vov<;.  If  man  is  more  intelligent  than  animals,  it 
is,  lie  believes,  because  liis  mind  employs  more  developed 
organs.  All  living  things,  without  exception,  are  endowed 
with  mind. 

How  do  living  beings  partake  of  mind  ?  Does  the  intel- 
ligent principle  of  Anaxagoras  exist  outside  of  these 
bemgs,  or  is  it  but  the  sum  of  all  the  intelligences,  all 
the  purposes,  and  all  tlie  motive  forces,  whence  move- 
ment in  general  results  ?  On  the  one  hand,  it  is  certain 
that,  inasmucli  as  the  vov<i  knows  all  things  past,  present, 
and  future,  and  knows  them  before  the  organization  of 
matter,  it  in  no  wise  resembles  either  the   Substance  of 


52  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

Spinoza  or  the  active  Idea  of  Hegel;  for  the  Substance 
of  Spinoza  and  the  Idea  of  Hegel  know  things  only  through 
tlie  mediation  of  the  human  brain  ;  that  is  to  say,  by  means 
of  previously-organized  matter.  Anaxagoras  is  so  decided 
in  his  assumption  that  the  vov^i  is  free  and  conscious  of  its 
action,  tliat  he  regards  the  word  Fate  (elfiapfjiev't])  as  devoid 
of  meaning.  Besides,  the  very  term  which  he  uses  to 
designate  the  motive  principle  signifies  reason,  purpose. 
He  seems  to  make  a  transcendent  being  of  it,  one  that 
exists  independently  of  other  beings,  and  acts  upon  them 
in  a  purety  mechanical  way.  He  even  seems  to  consider 
these  beings,  not  as  intelligent  in  the  true  sense  of  the 
word,  but  as  automata  which  appear  to  be  intelligent  with- 
out really  being  so.  On  the  other  hand,  he  speaks  of  the 
presence  of  the  vou<i  in  living  creatures  as  though  he  were  a 
pantheist.  The  long  and  short  of  it  is,  the  thinkers  of  this 
remote  age  never  broached  the  questions  of  transcendency 
and  immanency,  personality  and  impersonality,  conscious 
intelligence  and  unconscious  intelligence.  Heraclitus  found 
nothing  objectionable  in  assuming  a  primitive  substance  and 
a  perpetual  state  of  change.  Similarly,  we  may  suppose, 
Anaxagoras  maintained  both  the  transcendency  and  the 
immanency  of  the  vou<i,  without  even  susjDccting  that  he 
was  contradictincr  himself. 

The  same  may  be  said  in  answer  to  the  question  whether 
the  voik  of  Anaxagoras  is  simply  less  material  than 
other  substances,  or  whether  it  is  an  absolutely  immaterial 
entity.  It  is  undoubtedly  true,  on  the  one  hand,  that  the 
attributes  of  the  vov<i  are  altogether  like  those  of  the  spirit 
of  spiritualism,  and  that  the  vov'?  seems  to  have  nothing  in 
common  with  matter  except  existence.  Yet,  on  the  other 
hand,  there  seems  to  be  but  a  difference  of  degree  between 
the  vou<;  and  material  substances :  the  wO?,  in  fact,  is  the 
finest,  the  most  mobile  thing  of  all  {XeirroTaTov  Travrcov 
■^(^priixdrwv) ;  it  is  identical   with  the  ar)p  -xjrvxi]  of  Anax- 


DIOGENES  OF  APOLLONIA,  ARCHELAUS,  ETC.  53 

imenes.^  Hence,  it  is  merely  the  highest  kind  of  matter 
and,  consequently,  not  absolutely  opposed  to  it  as  in  spirit- 
ualism proper.  The  dualistic  conception  is,  as  yet,  only 
vaguely  defined  in  the  system  of  Anaxagoras,  who  finds  it 
hard  to  cut  loose  from  the  materialism  of  the  physicists. 
Tliis  is  evident  from  the  fact  that  Archelaus,  his  disciple, 
considers  the  vov<i  as  the  finest  kind  of  matter.  Moreover, 
Anaxagoras  himself  fails  to  apply  the  notion  of  finality 
and  his  principle  that  the  prime  mover  is  an  intelligent 
being.  Aristotle  justly  censures  him  for  using  mind  as  a 
deus  ex  macliina  to  account  for  the  movement  of  matter, 
and  then  wholly  abandoning  it  for  physical  and  mechanical 
causes  as  soon  as  it  has  served  his  purpose  in  explaining 
the  origin  of  the  first  movement.^ 

Nevertheless,  Anaxagoras  went  far  enough  in  spiritual 
ism  to  cause  a  reaction  in  Ionian  physics,  which  became 
decidedly  materialistic  in  consequence  of  this  opposition. 

8  12.     Diogenes  of  Apollonia,  Archelaus,  Leucippus, 
Democritus 

1.  Diogenes  of  Apollonia^  rejects  both  the  pluralism 
of  elements  and  the  dualism  of  unintelligent  matter  and 
immaterial  intelligence.  He  is  a  disciple  of  Aiiaximenes, 
and  assumes  only  one  original  element,  air,  which  is  the 
source  of  all  life  in  nature,  and  tlie  essence  of  all  bodies. 
Mind,  -wliicli  Anaxagoras  seems  to  regard  as  a  separate 

*  'I'lms  Aristotle  finds  fiiuK  \\\\\\  Anaxagoras  for  ideiitifyinsj^  i/oCs 
witli  -^vxT}-  thoii(,Oi  prctciidin^-  to  distinguish  between  ihoin  {Do 
animn,  T.,  2). 

2  Aristotle,  Met.,  T.,  4,  7.     C"f.,  Plato,  Pl,fr,1o.  07  R. 

»  Simplicius,  In  Pfn/s.,  ^'2,  .3.3;  Diog.  L.,  TX.  ;  [Fmrfmrnts,  coll.  hy 
Schorn,  Tionn,  1829];  Mnllach,  T.,  pp.  252  ff.  ;  fHittn-  and  Picllcr.  ].p. 
172  ff.  :  Hurnot,  pp.  'VW  f . ;  .'^oliloicrniafln'r,  Udter  Dini/rnes  vnn  Apol- 
Innin  (Works,  i>art  TIL,  vol.  2,  R.-rlin,  1S.'5S)  ;  Panzerbieter,  De  Ding 
A.  vita  et  scriptis,  Mciningcn,  1823.  —  Tk.]. 


54  GEEEK  PHILOSOPHY 

principle,  is  wholly  dependent  on  air.  This  is  proved  by 
the  fact  that  the  spirit  leaves  the  body  as  soon  as  the 
breath  is  taken  away.  Hence  we  cannot  say  that  air  is  the 
product  of  mind  or  thought ;  nay,  the  reverse  is  true,  mind 
is  the  product  of  air.  Without  air  there  can  be  no  life,  no 
consciousness,  no  intelligence ;  hence  air,  that  is,  matter, 
is  the  only  principle.  Intelligence  is  not  a  distinct  sub- 
stance, but  an  attribute  of  air.  It  is  obvious,  says  Dio- 
genes, that  the  principle  we  assume  is  both  great  and 
mighty  and  eternal  and  undying  and  of  great  knowledge 
(jxeya  Kol  ia')(ypov  kol  athiov  re  ical  aOdvarov  koX  ttoWo, 
eiSo9).  It  is  the  opinion  of  this  physicist,  whose  views 
are  closely  akin  to  those  of  Melissus  and  the  Eleatics,  that 
dualism  is  the  negation  of  the  fundamental  principle  of 
science  (e^  ez'o?  aTravra).  I  believe,  he  goes  on  to  say,  that 
all  things  are  differentiations  of  the  same  thing,  and  are 
the  same  thing ;  and  this  seems  obvious  to  me.  How, 
indeed,  could  the  so-called  elements,  earth,  water,  air,  etc., 
mix  with  one  another,  if  they  were  not  fundamentally  the 
same  ?  How  could  they  help  or  harm  each  other  ?  How 
could  the  earth  produce  plants,  and  plants  animals  ?  Let 
us  therefore  confess,  with  the  ancient  physicists,  that  all 
things  arise  from  the  same  substance,  and  are  destined  to 
return  to  the  same  thing.^ 

2.  Aechelaus.^  —  Archelaus  of  Athens,  or,  according 
to  others,  of  Miletus,  is  a  disciple  of  Anaxagoras.  He  ad- 
heres to  his  teacher's  atomism,  but  protests  against  the 
dualistic  interpretation  of  his  system.  The  vov'i  is  a  sepa- 
rate thing  like  water,  gold,  and  iron.  It  differs  from  these 
substances  as  these  substances  differ  among  themselves. 
Gold  is  not  iron,  but  iron  and  gold  are  both  matter.  So, 
too,  mind,  though  neither  gold  nor  iron,  is,  nevertheless, 

i  MuUach,  p.  254.     [Ritter  and  Preller,  p.  173.] 
2  Diog.  L.,  II.  ;  SimpL,  In  Arist.  Phjs.,  fol.  6  ;  [Ritter  and  Preller, 
pp.  178 ;  Mullach,  I,,  pp.  257  ff . ;  Burnet,  pp.  367  ff.]. 


THE   ATOMISTS  55 

material ;  it  is  the  finest,  the  most  subtle,  the  most  intan- 
gible substance,  without,  however,  being  a  simple  tiling. 
A  simple  substance  is  a  substance  that  is  composed  of 
nothing,  and  consequently  does  not  exist.  Matter  and 
substance  are,  therefore,  synonymous  terms. 

3.  The  ATo:\nsTS.  —  That  is  also,  on  the  whole,  the 
teaching  of  Leucippus  and  his  cUsciple,  Democritus  of 
Abdera,  in  Thrace,  the  most  learned  of  the  Ionian  physi- 
cists and  the  head  of  the  ancient  and  modern  materialistic  ^ 
school  (420  B.C.).  His  numerous  writings  have  been  lost, 
but  important  fragments  remain.  Besides,  direct  sources 
being  wanting,  we  may  refer  to  the  exposition  of  atomistic 
principles  in  the  poem  of  Lucretius.^ 

The  somewhat  vague  doctrines  of  Anaximenes,  Dio- 
genes, and  Anaxagoras,  on  the  nature  and  organization 
of  matter,  are  clearly  formulated  by  Democritus.^  With 
Anaximenes  and  Diogenes,  he  affirms  the  homogeneity 
of  all  bodies;  but,  with  Anaxagoras,  he  conceives  this 
indeterminate  matter  as  divided  into  an  infinite  num- 
ber of  infinitely  small  molecules,  which  come  together  and 
separate.  In  that  way  bodies  are  formed  and  destroyed. 
These  molecules   are   infinite   in  number  and  indivisible 

1  We  say  muterialistic,  and  not  atomhtic.  For  atomism  is  as  old  as 
Anaxagoras  and  his  theory  of  the  ^pr^fiaTa  "meipa  kqi  n'KTJdos  Km  afiiKpo- 
TT]Ta,  in  fact  if  not  in  name. 

2  [De  natiira  rerum,  ed.  by  Lachmann  (1850),  Bernays  (1852), 
Munro,  with  Eng.  tr.  (1886).  See  Masson,  The  Atomic  Theory  of 
Lucretius,  London,  1884.  —  Tr.] 

«  Aristotle,  Met.,  I.,  4;  De  coelo,  III.,  2;  De  mwna,  I.,  2;  Sext. 
Emp.,  Adv.  math.,  VII.,  135;  Diog.  L.,  IX.;  Lucretius,  De  rerum 
natura;  Clem,  of  Alex.,  Stromaleix;  Mullach,  I.,  pp.  330  ff .  ;  Ritter 
and  Preller,  ])p.  154  ff. ;  [Liard,  De  Democrito  philofopho,  Paris,  1873; 
Brii.'ger,  Die  Urhm-egnng  der  Atome,  Ilalle,  1884;  Natorp,  Forschungen 
zur  Geschichte  des  Erlcenntnis.sprohletnx  im  Alterlhum,  Berlin,  1884; 
Liepmann,  Die  Mechanik  der  Leucipp-Dcmolritschen  Atome,  Leipsic, 
1885;  Hart,  Zur  Seelen-  und  Erkcnntnisdehre  des  Demnkrit,  Mu\hauseu. 
1880;  Xatorp,  Die  Ethika  des  Demokrilos,  Marburg,  1803. —  Th.]. 


56  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

(aTOfxa),  without,  however,  being  mathematical  points,  for 
an  unextendecl  thing  would  be  nothing.  They  are  identi- 
cal in  chemical  quality  (to  yevo'i  eV),  but  differ  in  size 
(lu,€ye6o<;)  and  form  (ax^f^a,)-  They  are  endowed  with  pe]> 
petual  motion,  which  they  do  not  receive  from  a  tran^ 
scendent  principle,  but  which  belongs  to  their  essence. 
The  force  which  moves  them  acts  according  to  necessity 
(Ka6'  elfxapfievr]  vtt  avdjKi]'i),  and  not,  as  Anaxagoras 
seems  to  think,  according  to  design  (vov-i)  and  purpose 
(reXo^;).  Democritus  rejects  all  teleology,  but  denies  chance 
also,  though  he  sometimes  employs  the  word  ruxv  in  the 
sense  of  necessity  {avd<yfC7]).  According  to  him,  the  word 
"  chance "  merely  expresses  man's  ignorance  of  the  real 
causes  of  phenomena.  Nothing  in  nature  happens  without 
cause ;  all  things  have  their  reason  and  necessity.^ 

The  Eleatics  denied  the  void  and  consequently  motion. 
To  assume  movement  is  equivalent  to  affirming  the  void 
(rb  Kevov).  If  there  were  no  void,  the  atoms  could  not 
even  be  distinguished  from  one  another;  that  is  to  say, 
they  could  not  exist.  Hence  the  void  is  the  incUspensable 
condition  of  their  existence.  It  is  also  the  condition  of 
movement,  and  therefore  as  important  in  the  formation  of 
things  as  the  full  {to  irXrjpe'i).  The  void  is,  as  it  were,  a 
second  principle,  which  is  added  to  the  ^natter  of  material- 
ism, and  gives  the  system  of  Democritus  the  dualistic 
turn  which  the  most  consistent  monistic  philosophies  have 
not  been  able  wholly  to  avoid.  The  void  of  Democritus 
meets  us  under  the  name  of  uTreipov  in  Pythagoras ;  it  is 
the  fir)  6v  of  Plato,  Aristotle,  and  Plotinus,  the  negativity 
of  Campanella  and  of  Hegel.  Democritus  regards  it  as  the 
condition  of  motion  and  of  matter ;  the  idealists  regard  it 
as  the  condition  of  the  dialectical  movement  of  thought. 
The  perpetual  motion  {atho^  Kivr}ai<;)  produces  a  whirl' 

1  Stobfeus,  Ed.  pJnjs.,  p.  160;  Mullach,  p.  365:  Ov8ev  xpw^  f^^'''T 
yiverai,  a\\a  navra  f  k  "koyov  Km  vn  dmyKi]s. 


THE  ATOMISTS  57 

ing  movement  (Stw?)  among  the  atoms,  in  consequence  of 
which  they  are  combined  according  to  their  external  affin- 
ities, —  that  is,  according  to  size  and  form ;  for  since  they 
are  all  chemically  the  same,  they  neither  attract  nor  repel 
each  other.  The  heaviest  atoms  naturally  move  down- 
wards in  infinite  space,  while  the  lightest  form  the  atmos- 
phere. Some  atoms  have  uneven,  rough,  sharp,  or  hooked 
surfaces.  These  catch  hold  of  each  other  and  form  acid  or 
bitter  substances ;  while  atoms  with  smooth  surfaces  form 
substances  which  impress  the  senses  agreeably.  The  soul 
consists  of  the  finest,  smoothest,  and  therefore  most  nimble 
atoms.  When  such  atoms  exist  in  isolation,  or  are  mixed 
together  in  small  quantities,  the  soul-atoms  are  insensible ; 
when  they  are  joined  together  in  large  masses,  they  acquire 
the  faculty  of  sensation.  They  are  scattered  over  the  en- 
tire body,  but  gathered  together  more  numerously  in  the 
sense-organs,  where  sensation  is  produced :  in  the  brain,  the 
seat  of  thought ;  in  the  heart,  the  seat  of  the  affections ;  and 
in  the  liver,  the  seat  of  desire.  Sensation  and  perception 
are  explained  as  follows :  Effluences  {airoppoiai)  go  forth 
from  all  bodies  and  enter  our  organs  of  sense,  where  they 
excite  sensation,  and  the  brain,  where  they  produce  ideas 
or  images  of  things  {elhaXa). 

Sensation  is  the  only  source  of  knowledge,  and  there  is 
nothing  in  thought  that  has  not  passed  tlu'ough  the  channel 
of  the  senses.  Our  ideas  represent  our  impressions,  that 
is,  the  relations  existing  between  ourselves  and  the  external 
world;  they  are  not  direct  reproductions  of  the  objects 
themselves,  the  inner  essence  of  which  is  concealed  from 
us.  We  ctre  self-conscious  as  long  as  the  soul-atoms  remain 
intact  in  the  body ;  sleep  ensues,  and  with  it  loss  of  con- 
sciousness, when  a  certain  number  of  atoms  escape  ;  when 
nearly  all  of  tliem  escape,  and  ])ut  a  few  remain,  Ave  fall 
into  a  state  of  seeming  deatli ;  aii<l,  fniiilly,  when  all  the 
psychical  atoms  are  separated  from  the  Ijody  at  once,  we 


58  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

die.  Deatli  cannot  destroy  these  atoms,  because  the  atom 
is  indivisible  and  therefore  indestructible ;  it  destroys  their 
temporary  union  in  a  body,  and,  consequently,  the  individ- 
uality formed  by  such  a  union.  Since  feeling  does  not 
belong  to  isolated  atoms,  but  is  jjroduced  only  by  a  combin- 
ation of  atoms  in  the  brain  and  in  other  organs,  death  puts 
an  end  to  feeling  and  destroys  the  personality. 

The  gods  are  more  powerful  beings  than  man,  but  their 
immortality  is  not  absolute.  Since  they  are  composed  of 
atoms,  like  mortals,  they  eventually  succumb  to  the  com- 
mon fate  of  all,  though  they  live  longer  than  human  beings. 
In  the  eternal  universe,  no  one  has  any  absolute  privileges. 
Since  the  gods  are  more  powerful  and  wiser  than  ourselves, 
we  should  venerate  them.  We  may  assume  that  they  come 
into  relation  with  us,  —  in  cbeams  for  example ;  but  we 
should  free  ourselves  from  all  superstitious  fears  concern- 
ing them,  and  not  forget  that  above  these  beings,  however 
powerful  they  may  be,  there  is  one  still  more  powerful  than 
they,  —  Necessity,  the  supreme,  impersonal,  and  impartial 
law  which  governs  the  heavens  and  the  earth.  To  this  law, 
which  nature  imposes  upon  all  beings  alike,  we  must  submit 
with  joyous  hearts.     Our  happiness  depends  upon  it.^ 

Atomistic  materialism  culminates  in  scepticism  in  Pro- 
tagoras of  Abdera,  the  philosophy  of  Heraclitus  in  Cratylus, 
and  the  Eleatic  doctrine  in  Gorgias.  This  period  forms  a 
fruitful  crisis  in  the  history  of  Greek  philosophy.  Though 
temporarily  discouraged  by  the  examination  of  her  resources 
for  knowing  the  truth,  philosophy  emerged  from  the  dark- 
ness, strengthened  and  exalted,  conscious  of  her  powers, 
and  enriched  by  a  series  of  studies  that  had,  until  then, 
never  been  pursued;  I  mean  the  intellectual  and  moral 
sciences. 

1  See  Bur  chard,  Fragment  e  der  Moral  des  Aider  iten  Demokritus, 
Minden,  1834.  For  the  points  of  contact  between  Democritus  and 
modern  positivism,  see  Aristotle,  Phys.,  VIII:,  1,  27. 


SECOND   PERIOD 
AGE  OF  CRITICISM  OR  PHILOSOPHY   OF  :^^KD 

§  13.     Protagoras 

Peotagoras,^  a  fellow-countiyman  and  friend  of  Denio- 
critiis,  acquired  fame  through  the  eloquent  lectures  which 
he  delivered  in  Sicily  and  at  Athens.  He  was  no  longer  a 
(f>LX6cT0(f)0'i,  but  a  o-o^to-T779,  that  is,  a  teacher  of  piiilosophy 
who  received  pay  for  his  lessons.  His  example  was  fol- 
lowed by  a  number  of  talented  men,  who  undertook  to 
acquaint  the  educated  public  with  the  conceptions  of  the 
pliilosophers,  which  had  hitherto  been  restricted  to  the 
narrow  confines  of  the  schools.  The  laxness  of  their  moral 
principles  and  their  unbelief  in  polytheism  caused  these 
clever  popularizers  of  knowledge  to  be  stigmatized  as 
Sophists.  Their  work,  however,  ranks  in  importance  with 
that  of  the  Humanists  and  Encyclopedists.  Pampered  as  he 
was  by  the  cultured,  wealthy,  and  sceptical  youths  of  the 
age,  but  detested  by  the  common  people,  who  remained  pas- 

1  The  Thecetetus  of  Plato ;  Diog.  L.,  IX. ;  Sext.  Emp.,  Hiipohjp.,  I., 
217;  Adv.  math.,  VII.;  [Mullach,  vol.  II.,  Iviii.,  pp.  130  ff.]  ;  R'itter 
and  Preller,  pp.  183  ff. ;  Vitringa,  De  Profogorce  vita  et  philosnphla, 
Groeniiigen,  18.52;  [Xatorp,  For.schiingcn  zitr  Geschichte  des  Erlennl- 
nissprohlems  (see  above,  page  55)  ;  Harpf,  Die  Ethik  des  Protaijoras, 
Heidelberg,  1884.  For  the  Sophists  in  general,  see  Grote,  Hislory  oj 
Greece,  vol.  VIIT. ;  Hegel ;  Hermann,  Geschichte  und  System  der  plato- 
nischen  Philosnphie,  pp.  179  ff.,  290  ff.;  J.  Geel,  Hisloria  critica  sophisla- 
rum,  etc.,  Utrecht,  1823;  Valat,  Essai  historique  sur  les  sophistes  grecs 
(Investiqaleur,  Paris,  1859)  ;  Schanz,  Bp.itrdge  zur  vorsok-ratischen  Philo- 
xophie,  I.;  Die  Sophislen,  fliittingen,  1807;  Blass,  Die  allische  Beredsavi- 
kfiilvon  Gorf/ias  bis  zu  Lysias,  Leipsic,  1808;  II.  Sidgwick,  The  Sophists 
{Journal  of  Philology,  IV.,  1872,  pp.  288-300;  V.,  1873,  pp.  00-80); 
Siebeck  Untersuchungcn  znr  Philosophic  der  Griechen  (I. :  Uebev  So 
krates'  Verhaltniss  zur  Sophistik),  2d  ed.,  Freilnirg,  1888. —  Tu.]. 


60  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

sionately  attached  to  the  religion  of  their  forefathers,  Pro- 
tagoras, like  his  contemporaries  Anaxagoras  and  Socrates, 
fell  a  victim  to  the  fanaticism  of  the  masses  and  the 
hypocrisy  of  the  great.  He  was  banished,  and  his  writings 
burned  in  the  market-place  (411).  We  may  assign  as  tlie 
immediate  cause  of  his  condemnation,  the  doubts  Avhich  he 
expressed  concerning  the  existence  of  the  gods  in  his  book 
irepl  deoiv. 

The  scepticism  of  Protagoras  represents  the  conclusion 
of  a  syllogism  of  wliich  the  Trdvra  pel  of  Heraclitus  forms 
the  major,  and  the  sensualism  of  Democritus,  the  minor 
premise.  The  sensible  world  is  a  perpetual  metamori^hosis ; 
the  senses  show  only  the  things  that  pass  away ;  they  do 
not  reveal  the  immutable,  necessary,  and  universal.  Hence, 
if  we  would  know  the  truth,  we  must  derive  it  from  a 
better  source  than  our  deceptive  senses ;  we  must  appeal 
to  reflection,  to  reason.  But,  according  to  Democritus, 
reflection  is  simply  the  continuation  of  sensation,  from 
which  it  does  not  essentially  differ.  Consequently,  if  sen- 
sation is  changeable,  uncertain,  and  illusory,  and  is  at  the 
same  time  the  only  source  of  knowledge,  it  necessarily 
follows  that  all  knowledge  is  uncertain.  No  one  knows 
anything  but  his  own  sensations.  Things  that  are  not  given 
to  us  in  sensation  do  not  exist  for  us.  Whatever  we  feel 
exists  for  7(s.  Since  the  atoms  of  Democritus  are  not 
perceived  by  the  senses,  they  are  merely  hypotheses  without 
any  real  value,  and  the  importance  whicli  the  philosopher 
attaches  to  them  is  inconsistent  with  his  doctrine.  The 
same  may  be  said  of  the  germs  of  Anaxagoras,  the  elements 
of  Empedocles,  the  principles  of  the  school  of  Miletus; 
they  are  all  purely  hypothetical  theories,  and  cannot  be 
demonstrated.  There  is  no  truth  for  man  except  in  what 
he  perceives,  feels,  and  experiences.  And  as  sensations 
differ  for  different  individuals,  a  thing  seeming  green  to 
one  and  blue  to  another,  large  to  one  and  small  to  another, 


PROTAGORAS  61 

it  follows  that  there  are  as  many  truths  as""  individuals ; 
that  the  individual  is  tlie  measure  of  the  true  and  the  false 
OjrdvTcov  YprjfiaTcov  fxerpov  dvOpcoiro^,  tcov  jxev  ovroiv  co?  ecrn, 
TMV  S'  ovK  ovTcov  w?  ovK  ecTTLv'^)  \  that  thcrc  are  no  univer- 
sally valid  truths  or  principles,  or,  at  least,  that  we  have 
no  certain  criterion  (/cpn^pLov)  by  which  to  recognize  the 
absolute  truth  of  a  metaphysical  or  moral  proposition.  The 
individual  is  the  measure  of  the  true  and  the  good.  An 
act  that  benefits  one  man  harms  another ;  it  is  good  for  the 
former,  bad  for  the  latter.  Practical  truth,  like  theoretical 
truth,  is  a  relative  thing,  a  matter  of  taste,  temperament, 
and  education.  ]Metaphysical  controversies  are  therefore 
utterly  vain.  It  is  not  possible  for  us  to  prove  anything 
but  the  particular  fact  of  sensation ;  still  more  impossible 
is  it  to  know  the  causes  or  ultimate  contlitions  of  reality, 
which  escape  all  sense-perception. 

Let  man,  therefore,  occupy  himself  with  the  only  really 
accessible  object,  with  himself!  Let  him  abandon  his  sterile 
speculations  concerning  ultimate  causes,  and  concentrate 
his  attention  upon  what  is,  after  all,  the  only  problem  of 
importance,  —  the  question  concerning  the  conditions  of 
happiness.  Happiness  consists  in  governing  one's  self  and 
others  ;  to  govern  one's  self  means  to  be  virtuous ;  hence 
philosophy  is  the  art  of  being  virtuous.  In  order  to  gov- 
ern others  —  in  a  society  that  is  captivated  by  the  beauties 
of  language  and  always  ready  to  sacrifice  the  matter  to  the 
form  —  it  behooves  one  to  be  eloquent,  that  is,  to  think 
correctly  and  to  speak  correctly.  Hence,  philosophy  is 
the  art  of  thinking  correctly  and  of  speaking  correctly.  It 
consists  of  the  following  three  branches:  practical  ethics, 
dialectics,  and  rhetoric. 

These  doctrines,  in  which  tlie  subject  and  the  object  are 
for  the  first  time  opposed    to  each  other,    exaggerate   a 

1  I  Hog.  L.,  IX.,  51. 


62  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

highly  important  truth :  the  truth  that  realit}^  is  not  some- 
thing external  to  the  thinking  and  feeling  subject ;  that  the 
feeling  and  thinking  subject  is  a  coeflicient  in  the  produc- 
tion of  the  phenomenon  ;  in  a  word,  that  thought  —  whether 
it  be  transformed  sensation  or  something  else  —  is  one  of 
the  principles  of  things,  one  of  those  primary  conditions  of 
reality  for  which  philosophy  has  been  seeking,  a  principle 
which  it  divined  in  the  Xo'70?  of  Heraclitus,  the  eV  of 
Pythagoreanism,  and  the  vov<i  of  Anaxagoras.  Thought 
7iot  only  strives  to  reduce  things  to  a  unity,  it  is  the  unify- 
ing principle  itself  (to  eV),  that  which  unities  and  measures 
reality.  It  is,  indeed,  Trdvrcov  '^^^pijfxdrcov  /xerpov,  and  in  so  far 
as  it  is  not  conscious  of  itself  except  in  man,  Protagoras 
and  the  Sophists  were  perfectly  right  in  saying :  iravrav 
'X^prjijArcov  fxerpov  dvOpwiro^.  This  maxim  is  no  less  epoch- 
making  in  the  liistory  of  ancient  philosophy  than  the  'yvG>6i 
aeavTov  of  Socrates.  It  demolishes  the  past  in  order  to 
make  room  for  new  and  sounder  theories  based  upon  the 
consciousness  of  self,  and  inaugurates  tlie  age  of  criticism. 

The  criticism  of  Protagoras  and  the  Sophists  yields 
many  fruitful  results. 

It  destroys  the  mental  foundations  of  polytheism  and 
prepares  the  way  for  the  religion  of  Socrates,  Plato,  and 
the  Stoics.  In  the  second  place,  it  destroj's  the  naive 
dogmatism  of  fantastic  speculation ;  and  its  dialectical 
extravagances  and  sophistries  compel  thought  to  give  an 
account  of  itself,  its  mechanism,  its  methods,  and  its 
laws.  For  several  centuries,  philosophy  had  used  its 
reasoning  powers  without  accounting  for  the  nature  and 
the  forms  of  the  syllogism;  it  had  made  its  inferences 
and  deductions  without  investigating  the  inductive  and 
deductive  methods.  In  this  respect  it  resembled  the  mil- 
lions of  creatures  who  see  and  hear  without  having  the 
slightest  notion  of  the  mechanism  of  sight  and  hearing. 
Sophisticism,  even  though  it  abuses  the  laws  of  thought, 


SOCKATES  63 

nay,  let  us  say,  precisely  because  it  abuses  them,  makes  the 
niind  conscious  of  its  laws  and  causes  it  to  analyze  them, 
and  so  becomes  the  forerunner  of  the  science  of  logic,  the 
development  of  which  constitutes  the  glory  of  Aristotle. 
Simultaneously  with  the  science  of  thought,  it  creates  the 
science  of  its  inseparable  outer  shell,  language,  —  grammar, 
syntax,  or  philology  in  the  broadest  sense  of  the  terra.  By 
laying  so  much  stress  on  form,  and  showing  such  care  in 
the  use  of  wortls,  the  Sopliists  rendered  the  Greek  language 
more  flexible,  and  fashioned  it  into  the  wonderful  instru- 
ment of  thought  wliicli  we  admire  in  the  dialogues  of  Plato. 

The  error  of  Protagoras  and  the  subjectivistic  Sophists 
consists  in  their  interpreting  dvdpcoTro^  to  mean,  not  man 
in  general  but  the  indi\ddual,  not  the  human  understand- 
ing but  the  understanding  of  each  particular  inchvidual, 
and  in  assuming,  in  consequence,  as  many  measures  of  the 
true  and  the  false  as  there  are  individuals.  Protagoras, 
like  the  majority  of  the  Greek  philosophers,  exaggerates 
(1)  the  physiological  and  mental  differences  existing  be- 
t^veen  individuals ;  (2)  the  illusions  of  sensation.  He 
ignores  the  fact  which  science  has  since  demonstrated, 
that  the  investigator  may  correct  the  data  of  the  senses 
by  means  of  each  other,  and  his  ignorance  of  this  fact 
leads  him  to  deny  the  existence  of  an  objective  criterion 
of  truth.  He  fails  to  see  that  the  human  reason  is 
essentially  the  same  in  all  incUviduals.  ^len  hinder  him 
from  seeing  man. 

It  is  this  cardinal  error  in  his  philosophy  which  is  recti- 
fied by  Socrates. 

§  14.     Socrates 

Socrates  of  Athens  ^  (409-399),  once  a  sculptor  like  liis 
father,  was  attracted  to  philosophy  by  the  teachings  of  the 

1  .Sources  :  Xenophon's  Mpmnrnhilla  and  Spitposium ;  Plato,  Apol- 
og>/.  Phuln,  PJuetlrus,  Metio,   Thentetus,  etc.,  Aristotle,  Met.,  T.,  0  and 


64  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

Sophists,  and,  like  them,  devoted  his  life  to  the  instruction 
and  education  of  the  youth.  The  brilliancy  and  spiritual- 
ity of  his  conversation,  which  was  Attic  to  a  fault,  the 
grandeur  of  his  ideas,  the  boldness  of  his  political  para- 
doxes, everything  about  the  man,  except  his  outward  form, 
was  calculated  to  charm  and  attract.  The  martyrdom 
which  he  suffered  only  helped  to  raise  the  admiration  of 
his  many  disciples  to  the  highest  pitch.  Though  ar_  adver- 
sary of  the  Sophists,  whose  venality  he  condemned,  he 
resembled  them  so  much  that  he  was  mistaken  for  a 
Sophist.  Like  them,  he  expressed  a  contempt  for  meta- 
physics, natural  science,  which,  he  said,  culminates  in 
atheism,  and  mathematics,  which,  to  his  mind,  consists  of 
nothing  but  barren  speculations.  Like  them  and  like  the 
true  Athenian  that  he  was,  he  placed  the  study  of  the  moral 
man  and  of  the  duties  of  the  citizen  in  the  veiy  centre  of 
education ;  like  them,  finally,  he  rated  the  formal  culture 
of  the  mind  much  more  highly  than  material  instruction, 
without  calculating  the  effect  of  intellectual  freedom  on 
the  religion  and  the  constitution  of  the  State.  Hence,  he 
was,  not  without  some  show  of  reason,  identified  with  the 
Sophists,  and  the  hatred  of  the  conservative  democracy 
in  its  turn  destroyed  him.  Aristophanes  opened  the  battle 
against  the  reformer.     He  ridiculed  him  in  the  Clouds  and 

passim ;  Cicero,  Acad.,  I.,  4,  15,  and  passim  ;  Ritter  and  Preller,  192  ff. ; 
Freret,  Observations  sur  les  causes  de  la  condamnation  de  Socrate  (an 
essay  I'ead  in  the  year  1736,  printed  in  the  M^moires  de  I'Acad^mie 
des  inscriptions,  vol.  47  B,  pp.  209  if.)  ;  [Grote,  History  of  Greece,  vol. 
Vm.,  chap.  68;  Kdchly,  Sokrates  und  sein  Volk  {A  kademische  Vortrage 
und  Reden,  I.),  Zurich,  1859  ;  Alberti,  Sokrates,  ein  Versuch  iiber  ihn 
nach  den  Quellen,  Gottingen,  1869] ;  Chaignet,  Vie  de  Socrate,  Paris, 
1868 ;  [Antonio  Labriola,  La  dottrina  di  Socrate,  Naples,  1871  ;  Sie- 
beck,  Ueher  Sokrates'  Verhdltniss  zur  Sophistik  {Untersuchungen  zur 
Philosophie  der  Griechen,  1873;  2d  ed.,  Freiburg  i.  B.,  1888)];  Fouillee, 
La  philosophie  de  Socrate,  2  vols.,  Paris,  1874.  [Wildauer,  Sokrate^ 
Lehre  vom   Willen,  Innsbruck,  1877.  —  Tr.] 


SOCRATES  65 

at  the  same  time  aroused  suspicion  against  his  religious 
and  political  vie"\vs.  After  the  fall  of  the  Thirty  Tyrants, 
Socrates  was  accused  "  of  not  believing  in  the  gods  of  the 
State,  of  proclaiming  other  gods,  and  of  corrupting  the 
youth,"  and  condemned  to  chink  the  hemlock  (399). 

Although  Socrates  left  no  writings,  we  have  a  better 
knowledge  of  liim  than  of  his  predecessors.  For  this  we  are 
indebted  to  two  of  his  enthusiastic  pupils,  Xenophon  and 
Plato.  Their  accounts  do  not,  by  any  means,  agree  with 
one  another  in  all  respects.  The  Socrates  of  the  Memor- 
abilia is '  a  moral  philosopher  and  an  apostle  of  natural 
religion  rather  than  a  metaphysician ;  the  Socrates  of  the 
Dialogues  of  Plato  is  a  keen  and  profound  thinker,  the  rival 
of  Heraclitus,  Parmenides,  and  Anaxagoras.  The  simplest 
explanation  of  the  diiference  is  as  follows :  Xenophon  pre- 
sents the  teacliings  of  the  master  according  to  his  under- 
standing of  them  ;  while  Plato,  whose  philosophical  horizon 
is  broader  than  that  of  Socrates,  exaggerates  the  metaphy- 
sical import  of  his  doctrine  and  uses  Socrates  as  a  mask 
for  his  own  ideas.  Happily  we  liave,  besides  the  very 
detailed  but  sometimes  uncertain  data  of  the  two  disciples, 
the  opinion  of  Aristotle  to  guide  us,  and  he  cannot,  to  say 
the  least,  be  accused  of  partiality.^ 

The  scepticism  of  Protagoras  and  the  Sopliists  forms 
the  starting-point  of  the  philosophy  of  Socrates.  All  he 
knows  is  that  he  knows  nothing ;  he  is,  furthermore,  con- 
vinced tliat  certainty  is  impossible  in  the  case  of  physical 
science.  However,  though  he  is  a  sceptic  in  cosmology, 
his  scepticism  does  not  extend  to  the  field  of  morals.  He 
believes  —  and  tliis  conviction  of  liis  forms  a  new  and  pos- 
itive element  in  tlie  pliilosopliy  of  his  times — lie  believes 
that  there  is  something  in  the  universe  tliat  can  be  known, 

»  Met.,  I.,  6  ;  XIII.,  4.  Top.  I.,  2.  Eth.  Nic,  passim.  [Cf.  Klctt, 
SoLrdlfis  Tifich  lien  Xenophontischen  MfiiiordhUlcii,  Canstatt  18n;i.  — 
Joel,  Der  echtt  und  der  Xenophonlische  SoLrates,  Berlin,  189:}.  —  Tu.]. 

5 


66  GEEEK  PHILOSOPHY 

and  known  absolutely ;  this,  as  the  words  inscribed  on  the 
temple  of  Delphi :  Know  thyself^  indicate,  is  man.  We 
can  never  know  exactly  what  is  the  nature  of  the  world, 
its  origin,  and  its  end,  but  we  can  know  what  we  ourselves 
ought  to  be,  what  is  the  meaning  and  aim  of  life,  the  high- 
est good  of  the  soul ;  and  tliis  knowledge  alone  is  real  and 
useful,  because  it  is  the  only  possible  knowledge.  Outside 
of  ethics  there  can  be  no  serious  philosophy. 

By  making  man  the  real  object  of  science,  Socrates  evi- 
dently did  not  intend  to  create  a  scientific  anthropology, 
or  even  to  give  us  a  psj^chology  in  the  strict  sense  of  the 
word.  Man  means  for  him  the  soul  as  the  seat  of"  moral 
ideas.  He  accepts  no  other  science  than  ethics,  of  which 
Aristotle  calls  him  the  founder ;  but  ethics  is,  in  his  opin- 
ion, a  real,  certain,  and  positive  science  resting  on  universal 
principles.  Seemingly,  indeed,  Socrates  does  not  get  beyond 
the  standpoint  of  Protagoras  and  his  principle  that  man  is 
the  measure  of  all  things.  But  the  moral  system  of  the 
great  Sophist  was  not  scientific,  because  it  failed  to  recog- 
nize universal  principles.  By  man  as  the  measure  of  all 
things,  Protagoras  means  the  individual,  and  not  human 
nature  in  general ;  he  means  the  particular,  accidental, 
changreable  individual,  and  not  the  immutable  and  neces- 
sary  moral  element  which  is  common  to  all.  He  did  not 
believe  in  tlie  existence  of  such  a  fundamental  human 
nature.  Moral  ideas  do  not,  in  his  opinion,  possess  objec- 
tive and  absolute  value;  goodness,  justice,  and  truth 
depend  upon  individual  taste,  which  is  the  sole  and  final 
judge.  There  are,  therefore,  as  many  systems  of  ethics  as 
individuals,  which  amounts  to  saying  that  there  is  none. 
The  Sophists  were  deceived  by  the  diversity  of  opinions, 
judgments,  and  feelings  which  they  discovered  among  men. 
This  diversity  is  but  apparent  and  on  the  surface.  The 
moral  ideas  lie  concealed  and  slumbering,  as  it  were,  be- 
neath individual  prejudices.    We  have  only  to  remove  this 


SOCRATES  67 

superficial  layer  by  means  of  education,  in  order  to  dis- 
cover in  all  the  same  ideas  and  the  same  aspirations  towards 
goodness,  beauty,  justice,  and  truth. 

Socrates'  merit,  therefore,  consists  in  having  attempted, 
at  least  in  morals,  to  separate  the  general  from  the  particu- 
lar ;  in  having  advanced  from  the  individual  to  the  univer- 
sal ;  in  having  again  chscovered,  beneath  the  infinite  variety 
of  men^  the  one  unchangeable  man.  Beneath  the  confused 
mass  of  opinions  held  by  a  demoralized  century,  he  finds 
the  true  and  immutable  opinion,  the  conscience  of  the 
human  race,  the  law  of  niinds.^  Hence  Socrates  not  only 
rendered  a  service  to  ethics,  he  benefited  metaphysics  as 
well.  In  the  midst  of  intellectual  anarchy,  he  teaches 
thought  how  to  infer  and  define,  and  helps  to  put  an  end 
to  the  confusion  of  ideas  by  giving  words  their  exact 
meaning.^  Thus,  as  long  as  there  is  no  exact  definition  of 
the  notion  of  God,  a  man  has  as  much  right  to  espouse 
atheism  as  theism :  theism,  if  by  God  is  meant  the  one 
indivisible  Providence  that  governs  the  world ;  atlieism, 
if  we  mean  those  antlu'opomor^jhic  beings  with  whom  the 
Greek  imagination  peopled  the  Olympus.  The  main  thing, 
therefore,  is  to  come  to  some  agreement  as  to  the  terms  ; 
and  to  this  end  we  must  define  them  exactly,  —  an  art  in 
which  Socrates  excelled.  He  was,  says  Xenophon,^  untir- 
ing in  his  efforts  to  examine  and  define  goodness  and  wick- 
edness, justice  and  injustice,  wisdom  and  folly,  courage 
and  cowardice,  the  State  and  the  citizen.  He  did  not  offer 
his  definitions  to  his  liearers  ready-made.  He  differed  from 
the  sensualist  Protagoras  in  his  conviction  that  moral 
ideas  are  fundamental  to  humanity,  that  eveiy  human  mind 
is  hi(j  ivitli  truth,  that  education  creates  notliiug  tliat  is  not 
already  tliere,  but  merely  awakens  and  develops  the  latent 

1  The  Koivoi  \6yoi  of  Ilcjiaclitiis. 

2  AristoU.',  Mri.,  I.,  (3;  XIII.,  4,  8-0,  Z'>;   Top.,  I.,  12. 
«  Mem.,  I.,  1,  10. 


68  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

germs  of  knowledge.  He  contented  himself  with  being  a 
spiritual  midivife^  and  his  chief  delight  lay  in  teaching  his 
hearers  how  to  discover  the  true  definitions  for  themselves. 
A  better  teacher  never  lived.  He  practised  his  art,  which 
he  loved  to  compare  with  that  of  his  mother,^  in  the  jDublic 
places,  on  the  walks,  and  in  the  work-shops ;  wherever  he 
found  an  intelligent  face  before  him.  He  was  in  the  habit  of 
plying  those  whom  chance  made  liis  pupils  with  questions, 
—  questions  that  were  often  trifling  in  their  natui'e.  He 
began  by  chiming  in  with  their  views.  Then,  by  means  of 
the  most  skilful  questioning,  he  gradually  forced  them  to 
confess  that  they  knew  little  or  nothing,  and,  finally, 
brought  them  to  see  the  truth.  The  dialogues  of  Plato 
give  us  an  insight  into  the  famous  dialectical  method,  which 
enabled  Socrates  to  confound  the  learned  pretensions  of  his 
interlocutors,  and  which  has  been  called  the  Socratic  irony. 
Though  Socrates  sought  to  enlighten  men,  to  teach 
them  how  to  flunk  correctly  and  to  know  the  truth,  his 
object  was  not  to  make  them  learned,  but  to  make  them 
happy  and  useful  citizens.^  Ever  since  the  days  of  Socra- 
tes, philosoph}"  has  regarded  it  as  her  prerogative  to  take 
the  place  of  religion,  morality,  and  positive  faith,  in  the 
absence  of  a  universally  recognized  official  religion.  This 
accounts  for  the  peculiar  character  of  the  Socratic  and 
post^Socratic  schools,  which  are  as  much  religious  brother- 
hoods as  learned  schools.  For  Socrates,  Avho  is,  to  a  cer- 
tain extent,  a  national  tliinker,  a  full-fledged  Athenian, 
and  for  whom  actual  life  has  greater  charms  than  abstract 
theory,  vrisdom  or  knowledge  is  not  the  goal ;  it  is  the 
means,  the  indispensable  means,  of  right  living,  as  essential 
to  the  private  individual  as  to  the  citizen  and  statesman. 
The  intimate  relation  which  exists  between  knowledge  and 

1  Plato,  Thecetelus,  149  A,  151.     Mem.  IV.,  7,  1. 

2  Mevi.,  I.,  1,  11 ;  Aristotle,  Met.,  I.,  6;  XIII.,  4;  De  part,  anim., 
I.,  1,  642  ;  Cicero,  TuscuL,  V.,  4. 


SOCRATES  69 

will  constitutes  the  fundamental  principle  and,  in  a  meas- 
ure, the  very  soul  of  his  philosophy.  The  essential  thought 
is  that  the  more  a  man  thinks  and  knows,  the  better  will 
he  act;  that  our  moral  value  is  directly  proportional  to  our 
lights.  From  tliis  principle  the  other  cliaracteristic  propo- 
sitions of  his  philosophy  necessarily  follow,  namely :  that 
virtue  is  teachable ;  that  it  is  o)ic^  which  means  that  we 
cannot  be  virtuous  in  one  thing  without  being  so  in  all 
things,  or  vicious  in  one  without  being  so  in  all ;  finally, 
that  no  one  is  voluntarily  bad;  that  evil  is  the  fruit  of 
ignorance.^ 

The  ethical  system  of  Socrates  is  a  mean  between  the 
idealism  of  Pythagoras  and  the  realism  that  is  inseparable 
from  the  sensationalistic  and  materialistic  trend  of  the  Ionian 
schools.  It  aims  at  the  ideal,  but  it  loves  to  express  this 
ideal  in  sensible  forms,  to  reflect  moral  beauty  in  physical 
beauty.  Socrates  is  far  from  being  an  ascetic  :  he  strives 
to  subdue  nature,  to  make  it  the  instrument  of  intelli- 
gence, to  rule  over  it  as  an  absolute  master ;  but  he  never 
di'eams  of  suppressing  it.^  He  is  a  Grecian  and  an  Athen- 
ian above  everything  else,  and  so  sensitive  to  external 
charms  and  phj-sical  beauty  that  he  feels  himself  obliged 
to  wage  constant  yx-AY  with  the  allurements  of  matter. 

He  agrees  with  liis  predecessors  on  religious  matters  in 
that  he  repudiates  mythology  and  its  fables,  without,  how- 
ever, being  a  free-thinker  in  the  modern  sense.  His  spirit- 
ualistic faith  is  not  even  devoid  of  superstition.  He 
believes  in  the  supernatural,  in  superior  beings  who  watch 
over  nations  and  insjiire  individuals  (Sai/xovia).  But  he 
strongly  emphasizes  the  universality  of  Providence,  and 
thereby  attacks  the  particularism  of  the  Athenians,  thus 
paving  tlie  way  for  the  notion  of  tlie  universal  brotherhood 
of  man,  tauglit  l)y  Stoicism  and  Cllnistiaiiity.^ 

'  Afcm.,  III.  t);  IV.,  0;  Arist.,  Kth.  Nic,  III.,  1  ;   Vi.,  13. 
*  T'lato,  Si/mposium,  lid,  214,  220. 
»  Afem.,  I.,  1,  18;  IV.,  Vi,  Vi. 


70  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

In  short,  the  founder  of  Attic  philosophy  is  very  much 
inferior,  as  a  theorist,  to  his  modern  antitype,  Emanuel 
Kant.  Owing  to  his  heroic  death,  his  importance,  though 
great,  was  overrated  at  the  expense  of  that  of  liis  pre- 
decessors, who  were  philosophers  of  the  highest  order.  But 
he  is,  nevertheless,  one  of  those  reformers  whose  sojourn 
on  earth  has  been  productive  of  lasting  and  fruitful  re- 
sults. His  great  work  consists  in  having  given  to  con- 
science the  honored  place  wliich  it  deserves,  in  having 
reinstated  the  absolute,  immutable,  and  universal.  At  a 
time  when  men  publicly  declared  that  good  and  evil  are 
relative,  and  that  the  rule  for  judging  an  act  is  not  the 
"  changing  "  law  of  conscience,  but  its  success,  he  had  the 
courage  to  proclaim  the  authority  of  a  conscience  that 
merely  varies  in  ajDpearance,  and  the  superiority  of  the 
moral  law  over  individual  caprice.  Now,  to  maintain  the 
absoluteness  of  morality  meant  the  reform  of  philosophy 
as  well  as  that  of  morals.  For,  in  spite  of  what  indepen- 
dent moralists  may  sa}^,  human  thought  cannot,  without 
contradiction,  affirm  the  absolute  in  practice  and  jQi  deny 
it  in  theory. 

Of  the  many  disciples  of  the  new  school,  some,  like 
Aristippus  and  Antisthenes,  develop  the  ethical  teachings 
of  Socrates  in  opijosition  to  the  metaphysical  speculations 
of  the  old  schools ;  others,  like  Euclides  and  Plato,  unite 
the  Socratic  conception  of  the  liighest  good  and  the  Eleatic 
notion  of  the  absolute,  the  end  of  the  moralists  and  the  j^rs^ 
cause  of  the  metaphysicians,  and  therebj^  re-establish  the 
union  between  the  philosophy  of  morals  and  the  philosophy 
of  nature,  wliich  had  been  dissolved  by  scepticism. 


AKItjTIPPUS,   x^NTISTIIENES,   EUCLIDES  71 

§  15.    Aristippus  and  Hedonism.  —  Antisthenes  and  Cynicism. 
Euclides  and  the  School  of  Megara 

1.  Aeistippus  of  Cyrene  ^  was  a  sensualistic  Sophist 
before  joining  the  Socratics,  and  adhered  to  the  theoretical 
teachings  of  that  school.  With  Protagoras,  he  maintains 
that  all  onr  knowledge  is  subjective,  and  that  we  cannot 
know  what  things  are  in  themselves.  He  sharply  dis- 
tinguishes between  the  object  of  knowledge  and  Kant's 
thing-in-itself^  that  is,  the  external  and  absolutely  unknown 
cause  of  our  sensations  (to  eixiTOLrjTiKov  tov  7rddov<i^?  His 
ethics,  too,  is  more  in  accord  with  the  principles  of  Pro- 
tagoras than  those  of  Socrates.  Pleasure  {rjhovri)  is,  ac- 
corchng  to  him,  the  ultimate  aim  of  life.  Hence  the  name 
hedonism  is  applied  to  his  doctrine,  which  must  not,  how- 
ever, be  interpreted  as  a  coarse  sensualism.  Pie  is  a  follower 
of  Socrates  and  his  moral  principles  on  this  important 
point,  and  demands,  above  all,  moderation  in  indulgence, 
rational  self-command  in  presence  of  the  allurements  of 
sense,  and  intelligent  control  of  the  vulgar  instincts  of  our 
nature.  AVe  must,  he  said,  remain  masters  of  ourselves 
under  all  circumstances,  so  that  we  may  say :  ep^co  ovk 
exofiai,  or,  as  the  Latin  poet  translates  the  maxim  of 
Aristippus :  — 

—  Mihi  res  non  me  rebus  suhjnngere  Conor. ^ 

]\Iental  pleasures,  friendship,  paternal  and  filial  love,  art 
and  literature,  take  precedence,  in  the  scale  of  enjoyments, 
over  fleeting  sensuous  feelings ;  and  the  wise  man  should 
particularly  seek,   not   the   pleasures  of  the  moment,  but 

1  Diog.  L.,  IT.;  Sext.  Enip.,  .-If/r.  math.,  VII.,  191-192;  [Kilter 
and  Treller,  pp.  207  ff.-,  MuUacli,  II.,  397  If.;  Wendt,  De  philosophia 
Cyrenaica,  Gottingen,  1841.  —  Tk.]  ;  II.  v.  Stein,  De  philosophia 
Cyreuaica,  Gottingen,  1855;  [Watson,  Hedonistic  Theories  from 
Arislijipus  to  Spencer,  New  York,  1895]. 

2  Sext.  Eini).,  Adv.  math.,  A'll.,  191. 
•  Horace,  Epistles,  I.,  1,  17. 


72  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

lasting  joys,  a  permanent  state  of  moral  content  (%a/3a, 
€v8aL/jL,ovia).  Moreover,  Aristippus  and  his  adherents  agree 
witli  tlie  Sopliists  that  all  action  has  for  its  motive  the 
desire  to  be  happy,  and  for  its  end  the  pleasure  which  the 
act  procures.  They  likewise  agree  with  Protagoras  in 
religion.  The  hedonists  were  outspoken  freethinkers,  and 
helped  to  demolish  the  remnants  of  the  polytheistic  faith 
among  the  educated  classes.  In  a  work  entitled  The  Gods, 
Theodoras  of  Cyrene,  called  the  Atheist,^  openly  espoused 
atheism;  another  hedonist,  Euhemerus,^  held,  in  a  sensa- 
tional treatise  {lepa  avajpacf)^]  ^),  that  the  gods  were  heroes, 
kings,  and  distinguished  men  who  had  been  deified  after 
their  death.  This  theory  proved  very  acceptable  to  a  great 
number  of  Romans,  and  even  Christians,  who  rejoiced  at 
having  paganism  furnish  them  with  such  powerful  weapons 
against  itself.  However  narrow  this  view  may  seem,  it 
has  the  merit  of  being  one  of  the  first  attempts  at  a 
science  which  it  has  been  left  to  our  age  to  study  and 
develop :  I  mean  the  philosophy  of  religion. 

Hedonism  passes  tlu-ough  a  process  of  evolution  which 
may,  at  first  sight,  seem  surprising,  but  which  is  no  more 
than  natural ;  it  changes  into  pessimism  in  the  philosophy 
of  Hegesias,*  called  TretaLddvaro'i  ("  persuader  to  die "). 
This  evolution  was  the  logical  outcome  of  the  hedonistic 
principle.  The  aim  of  life  is,  according  to  the  Cyrenaic 
school,  pleasure;  the  sensation  of  the  moment  (rjSovr]  iu 
Kivrjaei),  according  to  some,  permanent  pleasure  or  happi- 
ness (xapct,  evSaifxovLo),  according  to  others.  Now  experi- 
ence proves  that  life  affords  more  pain  than  pleasure,  and 

1  About  310  B.  c. ;  a  contemporary  and  protege  of  Demetrius  of 
Phalerus  and  of  Ptolemy  I.  [Fragments  of  the  Cyi-enaics  in  Mullach, 
II.,  pp.  397  ff. ;  Ritter  and  Preller,  207  ff .  —  Tr.] 

2  About  310  B.  c. 

'  Fragments  preserved  by  Diodorus  and  Eusebius. 
*  A  contemporary  of  Ptolemy  I. 


AEISTIPPUS,  ANTISTHENES,  EUCLIDES  73 

that  unalloyed  happiness  is  a  ciream.  Hence  the  end  of 
life  is  not  and  cannot  be  realized.  Life,  therefore,  has  no 
value.  As  a  consequence,  death  is  preferable  to  life  ;  for 
death  at  least  procures  for  us  tlie  only  happiness  possible 
to  human  beings,  a  negative  happiness  consisting  in  the 
absolute  suppression  of  pain.i  Tliis  is  the  way  in  which 
Hegesias  reasons,  and  all  must  reason  who  regard  pleasure, 
jo}',  or  happiness  as  the  only  end  of  life  (reXo?).  Life  has 
real  value  only  for  such  as  recognize  a  higher  aim,  namely, 
moral  goodness,  the  performance  of  duty,  virtue  for  virtue's 
sake  ;  in  other  words,  life  has  value  only  for  him  who  con- 
siders it  as  a  means  and  not  as  an  end  in  itself,  that  is,  in 
short,  for  the  idealist.  For  him,  virtue  is  the  highest  good. 
Now  virtue  can  be  realized  only  by  living  beings.  Hence 
life  itself,  being  the  means  and  indispensable  condition  of 
virtue  or  of  the  liighest  good,  is  a  relative  good,  and  not 
the  summum  homim.  Hence  moral  idealism  necessarily  ex- 
cludes pessimism. 

The  hedonistic  school,  which  again  becomes  optimistic  in 
Anniceris  of  Cyrene,^  is  continued  by  the  school  of  Epi- 
curus,^ who  supplements  the  ethics  of  Aristippus  with  the 
physics  of  Democritus. 

2.  Antisthenes.'^  —  The  idealistic  teachings  of  Socrates 
are  reproduced  and  exaggerated  l)y  Antisthenes  of  Athens, 
the  founder  of  the  Cynic  school.  The  school  was  named 
after  the  gymnasium  of  Kynosarges^  where  Antisthenes 
delivered  his  lectures.  Its  motto  is:  Virtue  for  virtue's 
sake ;  Virtue  is  the  final  and  only  goal  of  all  our  actions ; 

1  Cicero,  Tusc,  I.,  34  :  A  malis  mors  ahducit. 

2  Aliout  300  II.  c.     See  Diog.  L.,  II.,  03  ff. 
«  §  10. 

*  Diog.  L.,  VI.;  [for  A.  and  lii.s  scliool,  see  also,  Mullach,  II., 
pp.  201  ff. ;  Hitter  and  Preller,  pp.  216  ff. ;  Dueniinler,  Antistheriica, 
IlaUe,  1882. —Tk.] 


74  GKEEK  PHILOSOPHY 

Virtue  is  the  highest  good.  The  Cynics,  his  successors,  go 
so  far  in  their  enthusiasm  as  to  prochiim  the  doctrine  that 
pleasure  is  an  evil ;  that  man  cannot  be  virtuous  unless  he 
renounces  all  material  and  even  intellectual  pleasures ;  they 
even  reject  mental  culture  and  philosophy  itself  as  evils. 
Despising,  as  they  did,  the  pleasures  of  social  life,  they 
came  to  violate  the  simplest  rules  of  politeness,  and,  in 
principle  at  least,  rebelled  against  the  laws  themselves. 
For  a  life  of  refinement  and  civilization  these  "  Rousseaus  of 
antiquity  "  substitute  the  state  of  nature ;  cosmopolitanism 
takes  the  place  of  patriotism.  The  principle  of  individual 
autonomy,  which  had  been  proclaimed  by  the  Sophists  and 
by  Socrates,  passes  from  theory  into  practice.  Not  all  the 
Cynics,  however,  are  radicals.  We  must  make  allowances 
in  the  well-known  history  of  Diogenes  of  Sinope,^  the  dis- 
ciple of  Antisthenes,  for  popular  malice,  which  naturally 
goes  to  extremes,  and  is  apt  to  culminate  in  caricature. 
The  moral  idealism  of  Antisthenes,  which  was  disfigured  by 
the  exaggerations  of  some  of  the  Cynic  philosophers,  reap- 
peared in  a  new  and  purer  form  in  the  doctrines  of  Zeno 
and  the  Stoics. 

3.  EucLrDES,2  the  founder  of  the  school  of  Megara, 
made  the  first  attempt  to  give  the  ethical  system  of  the 
master  a  metaphysical  support,  wliich  he  finds  in  the  phil- 
osophy of  the  Eleatics.  He  accepts  the  teaching  of  Par- 
menides  that  being  is  one,  and  the  Socratic  notion  concern- 
ing the  reality  of  the  vov<i  and  of  moral  principles.  From 
these  premises  he  boldly  draws  the  conclusion,  wliich  was 
again  advanced  by  Fichte  in  modern  times,  that  mind  or 
goodness  is  being,  the  only  absolutely-existing  being.     All 

1  [Goettling,  Diogenes  der  Kyniker  oder  die  Philosophie  des  grieschi- 
schen  Proletariats  (Geschichtl  Abhandlgn.,  vol.  I.),  Halle,  1851.  — Tr.] 

2  Diog.  L.,  IT.  [Ptitter  and  Preller,  pp.  223  ff. ;  Mallet,  Histoire  de 
Ve'cole  de  Megare,  etc.,  Paris,  1845.  —  Tr.] 


PLATO  75 

we  know  of  Euclides  is  summed  up  in  this  sentence.  But 
this  alone  assures  liim  a  distinguished  place  among  the  Attic 
pliilosophers  ;  his  system  forms  the  connecting  link  between 
Socrates  and  Plato.  The  school  of  Megara,  which  Stilpo  ^ 
made  famous,  and  that  of  Elis,  which  was  founded  by 
Phtedo,2  the  favorite  pupil  of  Socrates,  devoted  themselves 
to  the  development  of  eristic  dialectics,  hut  soon  found 
themselves  eclipsed  by  the  schools  of  Plato,  Aristotle, 
Epicurus,  and  Zeno. 

During  the  first  period,  philosophical  interest  was  cen- 
tered upon  nature  and  the  problem  of  becoming.  vSpec- 
ulative  Socraticism  inaugurates  tlie  era  of  the  philosophy 
of  mind,  which  predominates  in  the  second  period,  and 
in  turn  becomes  (A)  idealism,  (B)  materialism  and  eudae- 
monism,  and  (C)  concrete  spiritualism,  according  as  it  re- 
gards as  the  essence  and  highest  aim  of  our  being,  thought 
(Plato  and  Aristotle),  sensation  (Epicurus),  or  voluntary 
action  (Stoicism). 

A.    Negation  of  Matter.    Apotheosis  of  Thought 

§  16.     Plato 

Plato  of  Athens  was  born  of  a  noble  family,  about  427. 
He  received  his  first  instruction  from  Cratylus,  the  disciple 
of  Heraclitus,  then  became  a  pupil  of  Socrates,  and  later  of 
Euclides  of  Megara,  who  introduced  him  to  the  study  of 
Parmenides.  The  mathematical  speculations  of  the  Pytha- 
goreans also  exerted  a  decided  influence  upon  the  develop- 
ment of  his  thought.  From  385  to  the  close  of  his  life 
(347),  he  taught  philosophy  in  the  Academy,  a  place  which 
was  presented  to  him  by  generous  friends  and  for  centuries 
remained  in  possession  of  the  Platonic  school. 

1  Diog.  L.,  TT. ;  Seneca,  Ep.  IX. 
«  Diog.  L.,  loc.  cit. 


76  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

It  is  not  a  matter  of  indifference,  says  a  great  writer,^  by 
which  door  we  enter  life.  Socrates,  the  child  of  a  family 
of  artisans  and  himself  an  artisan  during  liis  younger  days, 
took  pleasure  in  mingling  with  the  crowd  whose  follies  he 
despised,  and  endeavored  to  instruct,  elevate,  and  ennoble 
them.  Plato,  the  descendant  of  Codrus  and  of  Solon,  was 
by  birth  predestined  to  become  the  author  of  the  aristocratic 
Republic^  the  idealistic  philosopher,  for  whom  form  is  every- 
thing and  matter  a  contamination,  an  obstacle,  and  a 
check ;  the  poet-prophet  who  will  have  nothing  to  do 
with  vulgar  reality,  and  whose  home  is  in  the  realms  of  the 
eternal,  the  absolute,  and  the  ideal ;  the  favorite  teacher  of 
the  Fathers  of  the  Church,  the  theosophists,  and  the  mys- 
tics. Socrates  exercises  a  somewhat  prosy  cautiousness  in 
his  thought.  He  is  not  willing  to  take  any  risks,  he  avoids 
hypothesis  and  the  unknown.  The  philosophy  of  Plato  is 
conspicuous  for  its  bold  imprudence,  its  love  of  adventure 
and  mystery.  His  speculation  is  not  like  the  Philistine 
whose  life  is  spent  in  the  market-place  or  in  the  workshop, 
and  whose  world  is  measured  by  the  narrow  boundaries  of 
his  native  town ;  it  is  the  lord  of  the  manor,  who  retires  to 
his  mansion,  after  having  seen  the  world,  and  turns  his 
gaze  towards  the  distant  horizon ;  disdaining  the  noise  of 
the  cross-roads,  he  mingles  only  in  the  best  society,  where 
is  heard  the  most  elegant,  the  noblest,  and  the  loftiest 
language  that  has  ever  been  spoken  in  the  home  of  the 
Muses. 

Plato  is  the  oldest  Greek  pliilosopher  whose  wi'itings 
have  been  preserved,  and  the  only  one  of  whom  we  possess 
the  complete  works.^    Of  the  treatises  attributed  to  him  by 

1  Goethe. 

'  The  principal  modern  editions  of  Plato's  Complete  Works :  The 
Bipontine  edition,  Zweibriicken,  1781-87  ;  Tauchnitz,  Leipsic,  1813  ff. ; 
Bekker,  Berlin,  1816-23,  London,  1826  ;  F.  Ast,  Leipsic,  1819-32 ; 
Stallbaum,  Leipsic,  1821  ff. ;  Baiter,  Orelli,  and  Winckelmann,  Zurich, 


PLATO  77 

tradition  some  are  surely  spurious ;  others,  like  the  Par- 
7nenides,  the  SopJiist,  the  Crati/lus,  and  the  Philehiis,  are 
of  doubtful  origin.  Criticism  has  also,  but  without  just 
grounds,  questioned  the  authorship  of  the  Apology  and  the 
Crito.  The  writings  whose  genuineness  is  beyond  doubt 
are  nine  in  number,  namely:  (1)  The  Phcednis,  which 
opposes  the  selfish  rhetoric  of  the  Sopliists  with  the  true 
eloquence  of  the  philosopher,  whose  chief  object  is  the 
knowledge  of  the  invisible  world;  (2)  the  Protagoras,  or 
the  Socratic  doctrine  of  virtue ;  (3)  the  Spnposiuin,  or  con- 
cerning the  different  manifestations  of  the  eras,  from  sensual 
love  to  the  philosopliical  love  of  beauty,  truth,  and  good- 
ness, as  tills  was  personified  in  Socrates ;  (4)  the  Grorc/ias, 
the  true  sage  as  opposed  to  the  Sophist ;  (5)  the  Republic, 
or  concerning  the  State  which  realizes  the  idea  of  justice ; 
(6)  the  Timceus,  or  concerning  the  nature  and  origin  of  the 

1839-i2;  Ch.  Schneider  (Greek  and  Latin),  Paris,  1846-56  ff . ;  K.  F- 
Hermann,  Leipsic,  1851-53 ;  [Schanz,  Leipsic,  1875  ff.  Ritter  and 
Preller,  pp.  233  ff.]. 

{The  Dialofjues  of  Plato.  Translated  into  English,  with  Analyses  and 
Introductions,  by  B.  Jowett,  4  vols.,  Oxford,  1871 ;  3d  ed.  revised  and 
corrected,  5  vols.,  New  York  and  London,  1892 ;  Platans  Werke,  Ger- 
man transl.  by  Sclileiennacher,  3d  ed.,  Berlin,  1855-62 ;  also  by  II. 
Miiller,  8  vols.,  Leipsic,  1850-66.  — Ti?.]  ;  Plato's  T-For^-s,  French  transl. 
by  V.  Cousin,  8  vols.,  Paris,  1825-40. 

For  Plato  and  his  writings,  consult:  [Ast,  Platans  Lehen  und 
Schriflen,  Leipsic,  1816  ;  K.  F.  Ilerinanu,  Geschichle  und  System  der 
platonischen  Philosophie,  Heidelberg,  18:59];  Grote,  Plato  and  the  other 
Companions  of  Socrates,  3  vols.,  London,  1865  [new  ed.  1885],  also  the 
same  author's  History  of  Greece :  Schaarschmidt,  Die  Saiiimlung  der 
platonischen  Schriflen,  Bonn,  1800  ;  Fouilloe,  La  philosophie  de  Platan. 
Exposition,  histoire,  et  crilirpie  de  In  thi'orie  des  idc'es,  2d  od.,  Paris,  1SS8-S9 ; 
[Chaignot,  La  vie  et  Ics  ccrits  de  Platan,  Paris,  1871  ;  Benard,  Platan. 
Sa  philosojthie,  pre'ce'de'e  d'un  aperfu  de  sa  vie  et  de  ses  e'crits,  Paris,  1892; 
Huit,  La  vie  et  Voeuvre  de  Plalon,  2  vols.,  Paris,  1893  ;  Pater,  Plato  and 
Platonism,  Xew  York  and  London,  1893 ;  Van  Oordt,  Plato  and  his 
Times,  Oxford  and  the  Hague,  1895;  B.  Bosanquel,  A  Companion  to 
Plato  s  Republic,  New  York,  189.5J. 


78  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

world ;  (7)  the  Thecetetus,  or  concerning  knowledge  and 
Ideas ;  (8)  the  Phcedo,  or  concerning  the  innnortality  of  the 
soul ;  (9)  the  Laius^  a  work  which  seems  to  be  a  partial 
retraction  of  the  Republic.  These  treatises  are  dialogues.^ 
Socrates  is  the  cliief  spokesman  in  the  majority  of  them, 
and  his  speeches  reflect  the  author's  thought  most  faith- 
fully. His  use  of  the  dialogue-form  enables  Plato  to 
present  us  with  his  own  philosophy  as  well  as  with  the  his- 
tory of  its  origin,  or  the  manner  in  which  it  arose  among 
the  Socratics.  It  is  true,  the  dialogue-form  may  perhaps 
be  objected  to  on  the  ground  that  it  hinders  us  from  ob- 
taining a  comprehensive  view  of  the  author's  philosophy ; 
indeed,  the  statement  has  been  made  that  it  is  so  diilicult 
to  systematize  Plato's  teachings  because  of  his  use  of  the 
dialogue.  The  reverse  seems  to  be  the  case  ;  in  our  opin- 
ion Plato  employs  this  form  precisely  because  he  has  no 
finished  system  like  Plotinus,  Spinoza,  and  Hegel.  The 
dialogue  might  be  regarded  as  an  unsuitable  method  of 
exposition  in  case  it  concealed  the  philosopher's  thoughts. 
But  it  hides  nothing  ;  form  and  content  are  here  the  same, 
and  the  dialogues  of  Plato  present  his  philosophy  in  its 
psychological  development.^ 

A  real  difficulty,  however,  arises  from  the  frequent  use 
of  myths  and  allegories.  Plato  employs  them,  either  in 
order  to  assist  his  readers  in  understanding  abstract  truths, 
or    in   order   to    mislead   the    fanatical    democracy   as   to 

1  Regarding  the  difficult  question  as  to  the  cln-ouological  order  of 
the  dialogues  of  Plato,  consult  the  Introductions  of  Schleiermacher,  the 
German  translator  of  Plato,  and  the  investigations  of  Socher,  Ast, 
K.  F.  Hermann,  Bonitz,  Zeller,  Susemihl,  Suckow,  Munck,  Ueberweg, 
[Schaarschmidt,  Teichmiiller,  and  Siebeck  ;  also,  Horn,  Platonstudien, 
Vienna,  1893.  — Tr.]. 

2  Concerning  the  genesis  of  Platonism,  see  Karl  Joel,  Zur  Erhennt- 
niss  der  geistigen  Entwickelung  und  der  schriffstHlerischen  Motive  Plato's, 
Berlin,  1887  (reviewed  by  M.  Reinach  in  the  Revue  critique,  Aug.  22, 
1887). 


PLATO  79 

Ids  religious  convictions,^  or,  finally,  in  order  to  hide  the 
contradictions  of  his  thought  and  to  escape  philosophical 
criticism  by  seeking  refuge  in  the  licence  of  the  poet. 
Most  of  the  Platonic  myths  are  mere  allegories,  which, 
as  the  author  himself  cautions  us,  must  be  taken  for  what 
they  are  worth.  Some  of  them,  however,  seem  to  express 
the  philosopher's  real  views.  Hence  the  difficulty  which 
we  experience  in  the  Timceus  and  the  Phccdo,  of  distinguish- 
ing clearly  between  the  pedagogical  element  and  the  teach- 
ino-  itself,  between  the  accidental  and  the  essential,  between 
the  poetical  symbol  and  the  real  meaning.  Though  Plato 
himself  gives  us  an  allegorical  exposition  of  the  drama  of 
creation  in  his  Timceus,  does  it  therefore  follow  that  the 
idea  of  creation  is  absolutely  foreign  to  his  mind  ?  When 
he  speaks  of  a  creator  and  follows  popular  fancy  in  pictur- 
ino-  him  as  a  human  workman,  does  that  mean  that  theism 
is  not  the  essential  element  of  his  thought  ?  The  Fhcedo, 
too,  is  full  of  mythological  allegories,  but  who  would  have 
the  boldness  to  declare,  with  Hegel,  that  Plato  assumed 
pre-existence  and  immortality  only  for  the  world-soul  and 
the  divine  vov<;  ?  We  must,  in  choosing  between  the  idea 
and  the  form,  —  a  delicate  and  rather  difficult  task,  —  avoid 
two  contrary  conceptions,  both  of  which  our  historical  sense 
would  compel  us  to  reject.  In  the  first  place,  we  must  not 
be  deceived  by  Plato's  symbolism ;  we  must  not  lay  too 
much  stress  on  what  is  but  a  literary  form,  and  mistake 
mere  figures  of  speech  for  the  hidden  meaning  of  things. 
But  we  must  also  abandon  the  notion  that  Plato  was  too 
great  a  man  to  be  influenced  in  liis  reason  by  the  imagi- 
nation. We  have  no  right  to  make  liim  a  Christian  or  a 
mo(k'rn  philosopher.  It  is  un(h)ubt(Mlly  true  that  Catholic 
mysticism  borrows  extensively  from  Platonic  theology,  and 
it  is  equally  certain  that  Plato's  dialectics  contain  the  rudi- 

»  Timceus,  28  C,  29  C-D. 


80  GREEK  THILOSOPHY 

ments  of  the  Hegelian  system.  But  twenty  centuries  of 
development  lie  between  the  sowing  of  the  seed  and  the 
full  fruition,  and  we  cannot  identify  the  beginning  and  the 
end  without  anachronism.  It  is  not  enough  to  point  out 
that  the  future  is  contained  in  the  past ;  we  must  also  in- 
dicate in  what  form  it  is  found  there,  and  show  that  this  is 
not  the  final  stage  of  evolution. 

Plato  is  the  product  of  Heraclitian,  Socratic,  and  Italian 
philosophy.  With  the  school  of  Heraclitus  he  believes  that 
the  visible  universe  is  in  a  state  of  perpetual  change,  that 
the  senses  are  deceptive  and  cannot  yield  us  truth,  that  the 
immutable  does  not  exist  in  the  world  of  sense,  but  in  the 
world  of  ideas.  From  Socrates  he  learned  that  though  we 
cannot  know  the  ultimate  principles  of  the  universe,  we  can 
at  least  know  ourselves,  and  that  we  can  attain  to  a  knowl- 
edge of  the  highest  good  through  an  infallible  inner  sense. 
But  Socrates  remained  a  sceptic  as  far  as  metaphysics 
vas  concerned.  The  Italic  philosophy  induced  Plato  to 
take  a  decisive  step.  In  the  Pythagorean  and  Eleatic 
systems  he  finds  the  inner  sense  (of  Socrates)  proclaimed, 
not  only  as  the  moral  conscience  and  practical  reason, 
but  as  theoretical  reason,  capable  of  revealing  to  us  the 
absolute,  eternal,  and  necessary  essence  of  things.  In 
mathematics  and  its  self-evident  axioms  he  discovers  the 
most  powerful  weapon  against  the  Trdvra  pel,  in  the 
sense  in  which  Cratylus  and  the  Sophists  applied  the 
principle.  Geometry  made  a  particularly  deep  impres- 
sion upon  him :  the  geometrical  method  served  as  a  model 
for  his  metaphysics.  Indeed,  he  even  borrowed  his  philo- 
sophical vocabulary  from  tliis  science.  Geometry  is  based 
on  a  2^rio7-i  intuitions ;  lines,  triangles,  circles,  and  spheres, 
are  ideal  figures  or  intelligible  realities ;  their  properties 
remain  the  same  forever,  and  survive  all  the  changes  of 
the  material  world  which  reflects  them.  It  is  a  rational 
science  and  has  nothing  to  do  with  sense-perception,  of 


PLATO  81 

which  its  trutlis  are  absolutely  independent.  Hence  Plato's 
pliilosophy  is,  like  mathematics^  the  only  self-evident  and 
necessary  science,  a  science  of  a  priori  intuition  and  rea- 
soning. Because  of  their  resemblance  to  the  principles  of 
geometry,  these  a  priori  intuitions,  upon  which  the  sys- 
tem is  grounded,  are  called  Ideas  (etS?;,  ISeai),  or  unchano-e- 
able  forms,  or  the  eternal  types  of  fleeting  thino-s,  or  nou- 
mena  (voov/xeva),  the  objects  of  true  science  {eTnan^ixri)  as 
distinguished  from  phenomena,  the  objects  of  sense-percep- 
tion (atadrjaa)  and  opinion  {86^a).  The  philosophy  of  Plato 
is  the  science  of  Ideas.  It  is  called  dialectics  after  its  new 
method.  To  this  science  of  first  principles,  which  is  the 
fundamental  and  only  science  worthy  of  the  name,  is  added 
the  iheori/  of  nature  {cj^vaiKi]).  The  latter,  however,  is  of 
secondary  importance,  and  does  not  deserve  the  name  of 
science.  Ethics,  or  the  science  of  the  liighest  good,  is  the 
last  branch  of  dialectics  and  the  crown  of  philosoph3\ 

Hence  we  have  to  consider  with  Plato :  (1)  The  Idea  as 
such ;  (2)  the  Idea  acting  upon  matter  as  a  plastic  principle, 
or  nature ;  and  (3)  the  Idea  as  the  final  goal  of  nature,  or 
the  highest  good. 

1.     The  IdeaI 

"Wlien  we  compare  the  mother  who  gives  up  her  life  for 
her  child,  the  warrior  aaIio  dies  in  defence  of  his  country, 
and  the  philosopher  wlio  sacrifices  himself  for  his  convic- 
tions, we  notice  a  similarity  in  their  actions ;  they  have 
the  same  common  trait,  and  reproduce  one  and  the  same 
type,  —  the  Idea  of  t])e  good.  Wlien  we  compare  a  mas- 
terpiece of  areliitecture  or  of  scidpture  with  a  tragedy  of 
Sophocles  and  a  beautiful   human  form,  we  discover  in 

'  For  Plato's  dialectics  and  idoolopy,  see  especially  the  Thetxtetus 
(lol  ff.),  the  Sophut  (218  ff.),  the  Philehus  (15,  54,  58  if),  Parmenides 
(130  ff.),  and  the  Rfjmhlic  (especially  books  VI.  and  VII.). 

6 


82  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

these  apparently  different  objects  a  common  trait,  —  beauty, 
or  the  Idea  of  the  beautifuL  When  we  compare  the  indi- 
*viduals  of  a  species,  say  the  human  race,  we  find  in  them 
a  number  of  qualities  common  to  all,  an  identical  type ; 
these  common  characteristics,  or  the  type  whicli  is  repro- 
duced in  all,  constitute  man-in-himself  {avTodv6p(07ro<i),  or 
the  Idea  of  man.  Finally,  when  we  compare  all  the  beings 
perceived  by  our  senses,  we  notice  that  all  have  this  in 
common :  they  exist  or  do  not  exist,  they  move  or  are  at 
rest,  they  are  identical  or  they  differ  from  each  other. 
Now,  tliis  heing,  shared  ])y  all,  this  non-being,  or  movement, 
or  rest,  or  identity,  or  difference,  is  what  Plato  calls  the 
Idea  of  being,  the  Idea  of  movement,  etc.  Hence  he  un- 
derstands by  the  term  Ideas  {eiSi],  IBeat) :  (1)  what  modern 
philosophy  calls  laws  of  thouglit,  morality,  or  taste  (ISeaL) ; 
(2)  what  Aristotle  calls  categories,  or  the  general  forms  by 
means  of  which  we  conceive  things,  and  which  are  em- 
braced under  the  preceding  class  {yevr]) ;  (3)  what  natural 
science  calls  types,  species,  or,  as  Plato  would  say.  Ideas 
(etBi]  proper).  In  short,  he  means  by  Ideas  all  possible 
generalizations ;  there  are  as  many  of  them  as  there  are 
common  names.  Every  common  name  designates  an  Idea, 
as  every  proper  name  designates  an  individual.  The 
senses  reveal  particulars,  or  natural  objects ;  abstraction 
and  generalization  {eTrayco'yy])  give  us  Ideas. 

The  great  mission  of  Socrates  was  to  form  general  ideas. 
But,  like  the  sensationalistic  school,  which  he  opposed  in 
other  respects,  Socrates  simply  regarded  these  ideas  as 
thoughts  or  concepts  of  the  mind  {ivvorjixara).  At  this  point 
Plato  shows  his  originality.  According  to  sensualism,  our 
sense-perceptions  alone  represent  real  beings  existing  out- 
side of  us.  According  to  Plato,  general  notions  or  concepts 
also  represent  realities,  and  these  realities,  these  objects  of 
our  notions,  which  sensualism  denies,  he  calls  leleas.  Ideas 
are  to  our  notions  what  natural  objects  are  to  our  sense- 


PLATO  83 

perceptions :  they  are  their  objective  causes.  The  objects 
which  the  deceptive  and  vulgar  organs  of  sense  present  to 
us  ^ve  regard  as  real  objects ;  while  the  Ideas  which  we 
acquire  through  reason,  the  messenger  of  the  gods,  are 
looked  upon  by  us  as  fleeting  shadows  that  come  and  go 
with  self-consciousness !  If  we  consider  sensible  objects 
as  real,  how  much  greater  reason  have  we  to  assume  the 
reality  of  the  objects  of  the  intellect !  The  general  Ideas, 
expressed  by  our  concepts.  Good,  Being,  Identity,  Man, 
etc.,  are  therefore  realities.  Hence  the  name  realism  was 
inaptly  applied  to  mediasval  Platonism,  which  is  diametri- 
cally opposed  to  modern  realism.  Platonic  realism  is 
thorough-going  idealism,  the  theory  which  conceives  Ideas 
as  real  beings. 

What !  Shall  we  say.  Ideas  are  real  beings ;  the  Idea  of 
being,  more  real  than  being ;  the  Idea  of  the  sun  as  real 
and  even  more  real  than  the  sun  which  shines  upon  us 
from  the  heavens ;  the  Idea  of  man  as  real,  and  even  much 
more  real  than  Socrates,  Antisthencs,  and  Euclides !  Com- 
mon-sense rebels  against  such  paradoxes.  Socrates  I  see, 
but  I  do  not  see  the  man-type ;  I  see  beautiful  men,  beau- 
tiful statues,  and  beautiful  paintings ;  I  do  not  see  the 
beautiful  as  such.  I  see  moving  bodies;  I  do  not  see 
motion  as  such,  or  the  Idea  of  movement;  I  see  livinpf 
beings,  but  being  or  life  in  itself  I  cannot  see  anywhere. 
All  these  generalizations  exist  only  in  my  mind,  and  have 
nothing  real  corresponding  to  them.  Plato  answers  such 
objections  by  saying  that  when  the  sensualist  sees  beauti- 
ful o])jects  and  just  acts,  and  fails  to  perceive  beauty  as 
such,  or  justice  as  such,  it  is  because  he  has  tlie  sense  for 
the  former,  wIiIIl-  liis  sense  for  Ideas  or  liis  reason  is  at 
fault.  If  this  were  suiricicntl}-  developed,  it  would  no 
longer  see  tlie  real  reality  {rh  optco';  ov)  in  material  exist- 
ence, but  in  till;  Ideas;  it  Wdiild  lodk  f(ir  reality,  not  in 
the   world  of  sense,  l)Ut   in   the    intelligible  world.      We 


84  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

consider  general  Ideas  as  the  mental  copies  of  sensible 
beings,  whose  reality  we  assume.  The  reverse  is  true; 
the  Ideas  are  the  models  or  the  originals,  and  the  natural 
beings  or  the  incUviduals  are  the  copies.  The  Ideas  are 
both  our  thoughts  (Koyot)  and  the  eternal  objects  (to,  ovra) 
of  these  thoughts  ;  they  are  the  thoughts  of  God,  which  no 
human  intelligence  can  wholly  reproduce,  but  which  are 
none  the  less  real,  absolutely  real. 

Let  us  take  the  Idea  of  the  beautiful,  or  beauty  absolute 
(avrb  TO  KaXov).  For  the  sensationalist,  the  beautiful,  like  the 
good  and  the  just,  is  a  quality  which  Ave  abstract  in  thought 
(abstrahere')  from  the  sensible  objects,  and  which  does  not 
exist  apart  from  these  objects.  For  Plato,  the  beautiful  is 
a  reality^ ;  it  is  not  only  real,  but  much  more  real  than  all 
the  beautiful  things  put  together.  Whatever  endures  is 
more  lasting  and  therefore  more  iral  than  that  which 
passes  away.  Now,  every  beautiful  object,  be  it  a  man  or 
a  statue,  an  act  or  an  individual,  is  doomed  to  destruction 
and  oblivion ;  Icauty  in  itself  is  imperishable.  Hence  it 
must  be  more  real  than  all  the  things  the  sensationalist  calls 
beautiful.  So,  too,  the  type  of  man  is  more  real  than  the 
particular  man,  because  it  remains  unchanged,  while  the 
individual  passes  away ;  the  Idea  of  the  tree  or  flower  is 
more  real  than  a  'particidar  tree  or  a  'particular  floM^er, 
because  it  endures.  The  Idea  is  what  it  expresses ;  it  is 
this  ahsolutely  and  without  qualification ;  all  we  can  say  of 
the  sensible  object  is  that  it  has  sometliing  of  what  the 
Idea  is,  tliat  it  2jarta'kes  of  it  (yLieTe;^ei),  while  the  Idea  is 
undivided  being. 

Let  us  again  inquire  into  tlie  beautiful,  which  is  Plato's 
favorite  Idea,^  and  which  he  loves  to  identify  with  the 
good.  Its  manifestations  in  the  sensible  world  are  only 
relatively  beautiful,  that  is,  as  compared  Avith  ugly  objects  ; 

1  Symposium,  211ff. 


PLATO  85 

they  are  not  beautiful  wlien  we  compare  them  with  more 
beautiful  things.  They  are  fair  to-day,  foul  to-morrow; 
fair  at  one  place,  or  in  one  relation,  or  in  one  point  of  view, 
or  to  one  person ;  foul  under  different  circumstances  and 
in  the  judgment  of  other  persons.  Hence  ever;y'thing  in  the 
world  of  phenomenal  beauty  is  relative,  fleeting,  and  uncer- 
tain. Ideal  beauty  {avro  to  koKov)  is  ever-lasting;  without 
beginning  and  without  end ;  without  diminution  and  v/ith- 
out  decay;  invariable,  innnutable,  and  absolute  {ixovoeihh 
ael  6v) ;  it  is  beautiful  in  all  its  relations  and  from  all 
points  of  view ;  it  is  beautiful  at  all  times  and  in  all  places 
and  for  all  persons;  it  is  pure  and  clear  and  unalloyed, 
and  therefore  transcends  the  powers  of  the  imagination 
{el\iKpLve<i,  d/xtKTov^  KaOapov).  It  is  neither  a  mere  notion 
nor  purely  individual  knowledge  {ou8e  rU  Xo'709  ovSe  rh 
i7riaT)]fJLr]'),  but  an  eternal  reality. 

Wliat  is  true  of  the  beautiful  is  true  of  the  great  and  the 
small,  and  of  all  Ideas  in  general.  Simmias  is  tall  as  com- 
pared with  Socrates,  but  small  by  the  side  of  Phaedo.  The 
Idea  of  the  great  is  great  in  all  points  of  view ;  it  is  abso- 
lutely great.  Hence  to  sum  up:  (1)  The  Ideas  are  real 
beings;  (2)  the  Ideas  are  more  real  than  the  o])jects  of 
sense ;  (-3)  the  Ideas  are  the  onli/  true  realities ;  the  ob- 
jects of  sense  possess  a  merely  borrowed  existence,  a 
reality  which  they  receive  from  the  Ideas.  Tlie  Ideas 
are  the  eternal  patterns  (TrapaSeiyfiaTa)  after  which  the 
things  of  sense  are  made ;  the  latter  are  the  images 
(eiScoXa),  the  imitations,  the  im[)erfect  copies  (ofioiMixara, 
fj,L/xT]a€L<;  ^).  The  entire  sensible  world  is  nothing  but  a 
symbol,  an  allegory,  or  a  figure  of  speech.  The  mean- 
ing, the  Idea  expressed  by  the  thing,  alone  concerns  the 
philosopher.  His  interest  in  the  sensi])le  world  is  like 
our  interest  in  tlie  iK)rtrait  of  a  friend  of  whose  living 
presence  we  arc  drpiiviMl, 

*  Puniicnides,  \'-i2;   Tiiiucus,  ^H. 


86  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

The  world  of  sense  is  the  copy  of  the  workl  of  Ideas ; 
and  conversely,  the  world  of  Ideas  resembles  its  image ;  it 
forms  a  hierarchy.  In  our  visible  world  there  is  a  grada- 
tion of  beings  from  the  most  imperfect  creature  to  the 
perfect,  sensible  being,  or  the  universe.  The  same  holds 
true  of  the  intelligible  realm  or  the  pattern  of  the  world ; 
the  Ideas  are  joined  together  by  means  of  other  Ideas  of  a 
higher  order  ;  the  latter,  in  turn,  are  embraced  under  others 
still  more  exalted,  and  so  on ;  the  Ideas  constantly  inci'ease 
in  generality  and  force,  until  we  reach  the  top,  the  last,  the 
highest,  the  most  powerful  Idea  or  the  Good,  which  com- 
j)rehends,  contains,  or  summarizes  the  entire  system,  just 
as  the  visible  universe,  its  copy,  comprehends,  contains,  or 
summarizes  all  creatures.  The  relation  existing  between 
the  Ideas  and  the  highest  Idea  is  analogous  to  that  exist- 
ing betv/een  objects  of  sense  and  Ideas.  The  objects,  as 
we  have  said,  fartahe,  of  the  Ideas  which  they  express ;  ^ 
they  exist,  not  in  themselves,  but  as  reflections  of  their 
Ideas ;  they  have  no  reality  other  than  that  which  they 
receive  from  these  Ideas ;  they  are,  in  short,  to  these  Ideas 
what  accidents  are  to  substances.  Similarly,  the  Ideas  of 
a  lower  order  exist  by  themselves  and  as  substances,  only 
as  compared  to  their  visible  copies.  As  compared  to  the 
highest  Ideas,  they  cease  to  be  substances  ;  they  become 
modes  of  the  only  really  ahsohite  Idea,  the  Idea  of  the 
Good ;  in  the  presence  of  tliis  sun  of  the  intelligible 
world,  their  individuality  passes  away  as  the  stars  vanish 
at  the  coming  of  the  orb  of  day. 

Hence  the  Ideas  are  both  individual  or  self-existent 
atoms  and  members  of  a  higher  unity.  Plato  liimself 
emphasizes  the  principle  of  the  unity  and  connection 
of  Ideas  at  the  expense  of  their  indiAdduality ;  his  dis- 
ciples, on  the  other  hand,  seem  to  lay  more  stress  on  the 

1  Phcedo,  100. 


PLATO  87 

atomic  and  hypostatic  character  of  the  Ideas  than  on  their 
unit}'.!  The  clear  and  transparent  Ideas  of  the  master  are, 
to  use  a  figure  of  speech,  precipitated  by  the  scliool,  and 
the  Lyceum  consequently  censures  the  Academy  for  adding 
to  the  material  world  another  wholly  useless  material 
world.  The  Ideas  of  Plato  form  a  unity  or  an  organism ; 
they  live  a  common  life ;  and  it  is  utterly  impossible  to 
separate  them  from  each  other  and  to  make  chstinct  beings 
of  them.2  Indeed,  they  are  independent  of  all  time  and 
space,  that  is,  of  the  principle  of  separation  and  individuali- 
zation. It  is  true,  Plato  speaks  of  the  heavens  as  their 
abode,  whither  we  must  rise  in  order  to  contemplate  them 
in  their  thvine  purity .^  But  tliis  heaven  is  not  a  part  of 
the  physical  universe.  The  home  of  the  Ideas  is  not  the 
same  as  that  of  the  things  {aladrird^  tottos:)  ;  it  is  sui  gen- 
eris, a  place  suitable  to  tlie  nature  of  the  Ideas,  an  ideal, 
intelligible  jDlace  {voi]To<i  totto^)  ;  the  home  of  the  Ideas  is 
mind  (z^oO?),  that  is,  the  Idea  as  such.  The  Idea  has  no 
place  outside  of  itself ;  it  does  not,  like  the  atoms  of  Demo- 
critus,  exist  by  virtue  of  empty  space,  but  by  itself  {avro 
Kad^  avTo).  A  prouder  challenge  could  not  be  hurled  at 
materialism :  Space  which  you  conceive  as  a  condition  of 
reality  is  quite  the  reverse  ;  it  is  the  cause  of  non-being 
and  impotence.  The  Idea  is  real  because  it  is  one  and 
unextended,  and  because  unity  is  force,  power,  or  reality. 
Now,  that  which  is  concentrated  in  the  Idea  as  in  a  mathe- 
matical point,  is  distributed  in  space  and  time,  scat- 
tered over  a  thousand  places  and  a  thousand  different 
moments,  and  conseciuently  enfeebled,  impoverished,  and 

1  This  substantialization  of  the  Ideas  is  already  noticeable  in  the 
Sophist,  and  has  been  regarded  by  some  as  an  argnment  against  tlie 
genuineness  of  the  dialogue.  (See  Schaarschniidt,  in  the  work  cited 
above.) 

2  Mpho,  81. 

«  Phvedrus,  2i7.      • 


88  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

relatively  destroyed  (m  6v).  Compared  with  the  Idea, 
which  you  regard  as  a  poor  reflection  of  the  real  world, 
your  supposed  real  world  is  itself  but  an  Idea  in  the 
vulgar  sense  which  you  attach  to  the  word,  that  is,  a 
shadow,  a  nothing.  The  world  is  the  relative;  the  Idea, 
the  absolute  (/ca^'  avro  6v). 

If  the  Idea  is  the  absolute,  what  is  God,  to  whom  Plato 
often  refers,  and,  as  it  seems,  refers  in  different  senses, 
sometimes  using  the  plural,  sometimes  the  singular  ?  In 
the  Timccus,^  the  Creator  (6  Bi]ixLovpy6^)  is  spoken  of  as  the 
eternal  God  (cSv  ael  Oeo'i,  6  6e6<i) ;  his  immediate  creatures 
(the  stars  and  the  celestial  spirits)  are  called  6eoi\  Oeol  6eo)v, 
ovpdvLov  deo)v  yevo<i ;  while  the  sensible  universe  is  a  god  in 
process  of  becoming  {iaofjievo^  6e6<;).  Evidently,  the  god  who 
is  to  be  and  the  created  divinities  are  accommodations  to 
official  polytheism,  and  the  Creator  is  the  only  true  God. 
But  even  this  highest  God  does  not  seem  to  be  absolute ;  in 
creating  the  universe  he  contemplates  the  eternal  (to  athiov)^ 
wliieh  serves  as  his  model.  Now,  the  Idea  or  the  Good  is 
the  eternal.  Hence  the  Creator  is  dependent  on  the  Idea  as 
the  copyist  depends  on  the  pattern  which  he  follows.  In 
order  that  the  Creator  may  be  the  Supreme  Being  or  the 
absolute,  the  model  must  be  the  Idea  in  itself  or  the  Good 
personified.  The  assumption  of  an  intermediate  principle 
is  apparently  a  necessary  consequence  of  Plato's  dualism 
between  Idea  and  matter,  while  the  conception  of  the 
Demiurge  as  a  workman  following  a  pattern  forms  a  part 
of  the  mythical  element  in  the  narrative ;  the  Creator  and 
the  pattern  of  creation  are  merged  in  the  creative  Idea,  of 
which  the  Demiurge  is  the  poetical  personification.  God 
and  the  Idea  are  so  closely  identified  in  Plato  that  it  seems 
at  times  as  though  God  depended  on  the  Idea,  at  others,  as 
though  the  Idea  sprang  from  God  as  the  eternal  source  of 

*  Timceus,  28,  34,  41,  passiin. 


PLATO  89 

all  things.  Since  God  is  sometimes  represented  as  below 
and  sometimes  as  above  the  Idea,  nothing  is  left  to  us  but 
to  take  the  middle  ground  and  to  say  that  the  God  of  Plato 
is  neither  inferior  nor  superior  to  the  Idea,  but  that  he 
coincides  with  it,  or  that  he  is  the  Idea  itself,  considered 
as  an  active,  plastic,  and  creative  principle.  That  the 
Platonic  school  identified  God  with  the  absolute  Idea  may 
be  readily  inferred  from  the  attributes  which  are  ascribed 
to  the  Good  and  to  the  Suj)reme  Being.  A  brief  compari- 
son will  suffice  to  convince  us  of  this  fact.  The  absolute 
Idea  (the  Good,  the  One)  is  the  lord  of  the  spiritual  world, 
as  the  sun  is  the  lord  of  the  visible  world.^  It  even  exceeds 
being  and  essence  in  dignity  and  power.^  It  is  the  uni- 
versal author  of  all  things  beautiful  and  right,  parent  of 
light  and  of  the  lord  of  light  in  this  visible  world,  and  the 
immediate  source  of  reason  and  truth  in  the  intellectual. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  God  of  gotls  is  represented  to  us  as 
the  eternal  cause  of  the  good  in  the  world ;  as  the  supreme 
wisdom,  by  the  side  of  wliich  all  human  philosophy  is  im- 
perfect ;  as  the  supreme  justice,  law-giver,  and  liighest  law, 
who  rules  the  beginning,  the  end,  and  the  middle  of  tilings ; 
as  the  pure  reason  which  has  nothing  to  do  with  matter  or 
witli  evil.-'^  Hence,  tliere  cannot  be  the  least  doubt  that  the 
God  of  Plato  is  the  aljsolute  Idea  of  the  good.  Does  that 
mean  that  because  his  god  is  an  Idea  he  is  not  a  reality  ? 
On  the  contrary;  because  he  is  an  Idea,  and  nothing  hut 
an  Idea^  he  is  the  liighest  reality ;  for,  from  Plato's  point 
of  view,  the  Idea  only  is  real. 

Now  the  Idea  docs  not  exist  in  space  proper,  but  in  the 

1  Republic,  YI,  508  D. 

*  OvK  oiaias  ovroi  tov  ayadov  aX\  fVt  fntKdva  Trjs  ovcrias  npccr^da 
Koi  bvvdiid  vnfpixovToi- 

'  Re/jufjiic,  VI,  500  ff. ;  VII,  517:  TlavTibu  avrfj  (fj  tov  dya6ov  18(a) 
6f)6(ou  T(  Koi  KoXSiv  aiTia  .  .  .  ovrrUi  ai8ioi  rfj?  t  uyndov  (i)viTfCLii  (ilrui  .  .  .  tp 
T(  rtjiuTd  rfiCjs  .  .  .  TfKoiaa,  iv  t(  i/o/jro)  .  .  .  dXrjdfun',  khi  vuvv  napa<rx(>fi(vr]. 


90  GREEK   PHILOSOPHY 

intelligence  which  is  its  natural  and,  in  a  certain  sense,  its 
native  abode.  It  cannot,  therefore,  come  to  us  from  with- 
out,^ and  it  is  a  mistake  to  derive  it  from  sensation.  The 
absolute  Idea,  and  with  it  all  the  other  Ideas,  are  original 
endowments  of  the  mind ;  they  form  its  very  essence.  But 
they  are  at  first  latent  in  the  mind,  and  Ave  are  not  con- 
scious of  them.  The  senses  show  us  their  external  copies, 
and,  to  a  certain  extent,  remind  us  of  the  originals  existing 
in  us  {avdfxvT]aL<;).  Sensation  pi'ovoJces  Ideas ;  it  does  not 
produce  them.  Its  function  consists  in  recalling  to  our 
minds  the  a  priori  Ideas  which  we  possess  without  susjDect- 
ing  it.  Moreover,  the  senses  are  deceptive  ;  and  instead  of 
revealing  the  truth,  they  keep  it  from  us.  Reasoning 
{v6r](n<i)  is  the  only  road  to  truth ;  and  this  springs  from 
love  {ep(o<i).  The  love  of  truth  is  but  a  particular  form  of 
universal  love.  The  homesick  soul,  living  in  exile  in  the 
world  of  sense,  fervently  longs  to  be  united  with  the  ab- 
solute, to  come  face  to  face  with  the  principle  of  light  and 
truth.  Tliis  pure  and  holy  desire  seeks  for  satisfaction 
in  earthly  emotions,  in  friendship  and  aesthetic  pleasure. ^ 
But  the  human  embodiments  of  the  Idea,  or  the  material 
incorj)orations  of  the  Idea  in  art,  do  not  satisfy  it.  It  has 
need  of  the  pure  Idea,  and  this  it  strives  to  contemplate 
directly  or  immediately  by  means  of  pure  thought.  The 
enthusiasm  of  the  lover  and  the  artist  is  but  a  feeble  begin- 
ning of  the  enthusiasm  felt  by  the  pliilosopher  in  the  pres- 
ence of  unveiled  truth,  ideal  beauty,  and  absolute  goodness. 

^  Strictly  speaking,  it  is  not  even  correct  to  say:  it  cannot  come  to 
MS,  etc.  ;  we  should  say :  the  knowledge  of  the  Idea,  the  notio/i  {\6yos:) 
cannot  come  to  us,  etc. ;  for  the  Idea  exists  independently  of  the  notions 
of  our  mind ;  it  is  ovbe  t\s  \6yos  ov8e  ema-rfjfir]  (p.  85)  ;  it  neither 
comes  nor  goes ;  all  that  comes  to  the  mind,  or  becomes,  or  is  formed, 
or  is  developed,  is  simply  our  concepts  (ewo^/xara),  which,  like  the 
sensible  things,  are  but  shadowy  copies  of  the  eternal  Ideas.  —  (Alle- 
gory of  the  Cave,  Rep.  VII.) 

^  PhcBdrus,  242  ft. 


PLATO  91 

Moreover,  the  philosopher  need  not  boast  of  having  attained 
this  ideal  goal,  for  absolute  truth  is  in  God  alone.^  God, 
who  has  absolute  truth  because  he  is  absolute  truth,  and 
the  uncultured  man,  who  does  not  even  suspect  its  exist- 
ence,  do  not  search  for  truth ;  the  love  of  truth  [<^L\oao(^Ca) 
is  peculiar  to  the  man  who  is  filled  with  light  from  on 
high. 

In  spite  of  its  mjstical  character,  Plato's  method  is 
rationalistic  in  the  strict  sense  of  the  term.  There  is  no 
contracUction  between  the  terms  mystical  and  rationalistic. 
Rationalism  and  mysticism  are  extremes  that  meet.  In 
fact,  idealistic  rationalism,  and  the  deductive  method  pecu- 
liar to  it,  invariably  presuppose  as  their  starting-point  the 
immecUate  and  a  priori  perception  of  an  absolute  principle, 
a  perception  wliich  we  call  mystical,  precisely  because  it  is 
immediate  and  unanalyzable.  Platonic  idealism,  like  its 
offshoots,  the  systems  of  Plotinus,  Spinoza,  and  SchelUng, 
begins  with  a  mystical  act  and  culminates  in  a  religion.^ 

2.    Natuee 

The  transition  from  Idea  to  being,  from  metaphysics  to 
physics,  is  not  easy  for  Plato.  If  the  Idea  is  self-sufficient, 
and  if  the  intelligible  world  is  a  system  of  perfect  beings^ 
what  is  the  use  of  a  sensible  reality,  that  must  of  necessity 
be  imperfect,  alongside  of  the  Idea  ?  What  is  the  use  of  a 
material  world  that  is  inevitably  doomed  to  evil  ?  What  is 
the  use  of  copies  by  the  side  of  the  original,  of  copies  that 
cannot  reproduce  it  in  its  divine  purity  ?  The  real  world 
is  evidently  as  great  a  source  of  trouble  to  Plato  as  it 
was  to  Parmenides.     It  cannot  be  explained  by  the  Idea 

*  Phcedrus,  278  :  To  fxtv  aofpuv  .  .  .  ifxoiyt  y^tya  dvai  boKfl  tcai  6t<ji 
1X09(0  ■npinfi.v. 

*  See  Ilartmann,  Philosophy  of  the  Unconscious  (translated  hy  E.  G 
Thomas),  the  chapter  entitled :  On  tlic  Uuconscioua  in  Mysticism. 


92  GREEK  PHILOSOrHY 

alone,  but  presupposes  a  second  princii^le,  ^A'hich  is  no  less 
real  than  mind:  matter.  Hence,  when  you  assume  the 
reality  of  the  sensible  world,  you  abandon  the  absolute 
monism  of  the  Idea ;  you  confess  that  the  Idea  constitutes 
only  a  part  of  reality,  and  make  concessions  to  sensualism 
and  materialism.  And  yet  the  sensible  world  exists  ;  it  is 
an  undeniable  and  stubborn  fact  that  has  to  be  explained. 
Though  full  of  imperfections,  it  is,  after  all,  a  sublime  work 
of  art,  whose  infinite  harmonies  inspire  the  idealist  as  well 
as  the  materialist  with  feelings  of  delight.  The  mind  of 
man  cannot  wholly  unravel  the  mysteries  of  the  universe. 
Nevertheless,  he  should  investigate  it  to  the  best  of  his 
ability,  and  untiringly  search  for  a  satisfactory  solution  of 
the  problem.  Plato  finds  the  key  to  the  answer  in  the  con- 
ception of  divine  goodness ;  this  enables  his  thought  to 
pass  from  the  ideal  to  the  real.^  The  Idea  is  the  absolute 
good ;  God  is  sujDreme  goodness.  Now  the  good  or  good- 
ness cannot  but  create  the  good.  God  is  life,  and  life 
must  create  life.  Hence  God  must  create  ;  the  Idea  must 
reproduce  itself. 

Inasmuch  as  the  Idea  is  the  only  reality,  there  is  notliing 
outside  of  it  but  non-being  {firj  6v).  But,  in  so  far  as  it  is 
the  highest  reality,  it  is  also  the  highest  activity,  the  heing 
that  communicates  itself  to  non-being.  Hence,  the  Idea 
becomes  a  creator,  a  cause,  a  will,  or  a  plastic  principle 
in  reference  to  non-being ;  so  that  non-being  in  turn  be- 
comes like  being  [tocovto  tl  olov  ro  6V),  and  takes  part  in 
the  absolute  existence  of  the  Idea  (Koivcovia,  fiede^i-i). 
The  non-being  thus  becomes  the  first  matter  out  of  which 
the  Idea  forms,  after  its  own  image,  the  most  perfect, 
divine,  and  finished  visible  world  possible :  it  becomes  mat- 
ter (vXr]),  as  Plato's  successors  would  say.  According  to 
Plato  and  idealism,  matter  is  notliing  corporeal;  it  is 
something  that  may  become  so,  through  the  plastic  action 
1  Timceus,  29  E. 


PLATO  93 

of  tlie  Idea.  The  body  is  a  determinate,  limited,  qualified, 
and  qualifiable  thing;  matter,  considered  as  such  and 
apart  from  the  forms  which  the  Idea  impresses  upon  it,  is 
the  unlimited  itself  {to  aireipov)  ;  it  is  devoid  of  all  positive 
attributes,  and  cannot  therefore  be  designated  by  any  posi- 
tive term,  since  every  term  cletermines  ;  it  is  the  indefinable 
(aopLarov),  the  formless  (afiop(f}ov),  the  imperceptible  [aopa- 
Tov).  But  though  in  itself  indeterminate,  formless,  and 
imperceptible,  it  may,  through  the  plastic  action  of  the 
Idea,  receive  all  possible  forms  and  determinations  {irav- 
Se%e9)  ;  it  may  become  the  mother  of  all  sensible  things 
Qiv  (p  yiyverai  ro  jLyvofxevov,  ra  vdvra  Sexofi^vr]),  the  uni- 
versal recipient  {8e^a/j.ev7]).  It  is  identical  with  space  and 
the  place  filled  by  bodies  (j(a>pa^  totto'^'^').  It  is  not  the 
product  of  the  Idea,  the  creature  of  God,  for :  (1)  Being 
cannot  produce  non-being,  and  matter  is  non-being  (/x?)  6V); 
(2)  creation  is  action ;  now,  all  action  presupposes  an  oljject 
to  be  acted  upon,  or  an  object  which  suffers  action  (ttci- 
(Txov) ;  hence  the  divine  activity  presupposes  matter,  and 
does  not  create  it.  iMatter  is  the  condition  of  the  creative 
activity  of  the  Idea  (avvaiTLov)^  and  therefore  co-eternal 
with  God.  The  eternity  of  matter  does  not  detract  from 
the  supreme  majesty  of  the  Idea  {^aatXeia)  ;  the  Idea  con- 
tinues to  remain  the  highest  being,  while  the  eternal  exists 
ence  of  matter  is  equivalent  to  eternal  non-being. 

But  though  eternal  matter  docs  not  limit  llie  Idea,  which 
as  such  is  absolute,  it  does,  none  {he  less,  limit  its  operation 
in  the  universe.  INIatter  is  both  the  conditic^n  sine  qua  non 
of  the  action  of  the  Idea  and  its  eternal  obstruction.  It 
is  both  the  indispensable  auxiliary  and  the  irreconcilable 
foe  of  tlie  creative  Idea.     True,  it  is  passive,  but  its  pas- 

^  Ai'istotlf,  Ph>/x.,  IV.  2:  Aio  Ktu  YIXutcov  tt/u  vXt]u  koi  Trjv  ^^aypav 
aiiTO  (Lr](Tiv  (ivai  (P  tu  Tifitiico  •  .  •  Ofian  mv  ti'itto:'  kcu  rrjv  ^ojjxiv  to  avro 
anffpfivaro.  Cf.  C.  Ha;uinker,  Das  Problrm  tier  Mulifrie  in  <lcr  (jriechl 
schen  rhilu.iophie,  Miiiister,  1890. 


94  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

sivity  does  not  consist  in  absolute  non-interference.  Its 
cooperation  is  resistance.  It  is  formless  and  unlimited, 
and  therefore  opposes  and  resists  the  form,  limitation, 
and  finish  which  the  eternal  artist  desires  to  give  it ; 
this  resistance  manifests  itself  as  inertia,  weight,  dispro- 
portion, ugliness,  or  stupitUty.  It  is  non-being  or  the 
perpetual  negation  of  being,  and  consequently  opposes  and 
resists  everything  positive,  stable,  and  immutable,  and  for- 
ever destroys  the  works  of  God.  It  is  the  primary  cause 
of  the  imperfection  of  things,  of  physical  and  moral  evil, 
as  well  as  of  their  instability,  their  constant  change,  and  of 
all  that  is  uncertain,  perishable,  and  mortal  in  them. 

From  the  union  of  the  ideal  or  paternal  principle  with 
the  material  or  maternal  principle  springs  the  cosmos,  the 
only  son  and  image  of  the  invisible  Divinity  (uto?  /lovoyevj]^, 
etKoiiv  Tov  Oeov),  the  god  that  is  to  be  (ia-o/jievo^  ^eo'?),  the 
visible  god  {aladrjTO's  6e6^),  Avhose  relative  perfection  re- 
minds us  of  the  Father  of  the  Universe  {7ron]T7]'i  koX  irarrip 
TOV  iravTo^)^  the  living  animal  (^«oi^),  that  reproduces,  as 
faithfully  as  it  can,  the  eternal  ideal  animal  {^wov  alhiov). 
This  cosmos  has  (1)  a  body  (a-co/xa)  governed  by  necessity 
(avdyKi]) ;  (2)  a  rational  content,  a  purpose,  or  a  meaning 
(yoO?,  ^a)ov  evvovv),  a  final  goal  for  which  it  was  made,  an 
end  to  realize  (reXo^;) ;  and  finally  (3)  a  soul  {■^vXHi  ^"^^^ 
€/x'^v')(^ov)y  the  mysterious  link  which  unites  the  contrary 
principles  in  the  cosmos,  and  whose  function  it  is  to  sub- 
ordinate the  material  world  to  the  Idea,  or  to  subject  brutal 
necessity  to  reason,  to  adapt  it  to  the  final  purpose  of  the 
Creator.  The  body  of  the  universe  has  the  sliape  of  a 
sphere,  which  is  the  most  beautiful  form  imaginable, 
and  makes  the  world  the  most  faithful  image  of  its  in- 
telligil)le  archetype.  It  revolves  upon  its  own  axis  and 
thus  constantly  returns  to  itself;  hence  it  executes  the 
most  perfect  movement,  a  movement  which  of  all  possible 
movements  is  most  appropriate  to  the  eternal  repose  of  the 


PLATO  95 

Idea  and  best  symbolizes  its  immutability.  It  is  perfect 
(reXeov)  and  not  liable  to  old  age  (ayijpcov)  and  disease 
(avoaov) ;  for  it  comprehends  all  the  forces  of  nature,  and 
nothing  outside  of  it  can  hiu't  or  destroy  it.  The  universe 
cannot  be  eternal  like  the  creative  Idea ;  hence  God  makes 
it  eternal,  so  far  as  this  is  possible ;  that  is,  he  creates  end- 
less time.  The  vov<;  or  mind  of  the  universe,  that  is,  the 
purpose  revealed  in  its  organization,  or,  in  short,  its  final 
cause,  is  the  most  perfect  possible  reproduction  (or  as  we 
should  say  nowadays,  realization)  of  the  Idea  of  the  Good. 
Finally,  the  soul  of  the  world  consists  of  Number,  which 
subjects  chaotic  matter  to  the  laws  of  harmony  and  propor- 
tion (avaXoyLo)} 

Atomistic  materialism  rejects  final  causes,  and  therefore 
opposes  the'  view  that  the  world  has  a  meaning,  or  that 
it  realizes  an  idea.  Platonic  idealism  takes  the  vov<i  of 
Anaxagoras  seriously,  and  explains  the  creation  of  the 
world  wholly  from  the  teleological  point  of  view.  It 
acknowledges  the  existence  of  physical  causes,  but  it  sub- 
ordinates them  to  final  causes  ;  the  former  are  tlie  means 
or  involuntary  instruments  of  the  latter.  Thus,  the  ele- 
ments, in  regard  to  which  Plato  follows  Empedocles,  are 
explained  teleologically :  fire,  as  a  means  of  vision,  earth, 
as  a  means  of  tactile  perception.  Two  other  elements  are 
needed  as  intermediaries  between  these  two  extremes,  that 
is,  four  in  all,  because  the  number  four  represents  corporeal- 
ity. We  have  seen  how  Plato  (who,  like  all  true  Pytha- 
goreans, is  a  geometrician  above  ever^-thing  else)  identifies 
matter  and  extension ;  he  is  therefore  forced,  with  the 
Eleatics,  to  reject  the  void,  which,  according  to  Democritus, 
exists  alongside  of  matter.  Since  matter  is  identical  with 
space,  and  since  space  is  universally  the  same,  the  substances 
composing  it  are  not  heterogeneous,  as  Anaxagoras  claimed  ; 
the  spaces,  considered  apart  from  their  content,  differ  only 
»   Tim(eus,  28  H,  31  C,  31  A,  39  D,  41  A,  92  B. 


96  GKEEK  PHILOSOPHY 

in  their  outward  form,  or  in  figure.  In  this  case  Plato, 
who  usually  follows  Pythagoras,  involuntarily  agrees  with 
Leucippus  and  Democritus.  Matter  is  divided  into  homo- 
geneous corpuscles  of  different  shapes.  Only,  these  figures 
are  not  accidental  like  the  forms  of  the  atoms  ;  they  are 
absolutely  geometrical,  that  is,  ideal,  final,  and  providen- 
tial. The  solid  element  is  composed  of  cubes ;  water, 
of  icosahedrons  ;  air,  of  octahedrons  ;  and  ether,  of 
pyramids. 

After  fashioning  the  first  matter  with  a  view  to  its  ulti- 
mate structure,  the  divine  architect  created  the  stars,  first 
the  fixed  stars,  then  the  planets,  and  then  the  earth ;  all 
these  beings  are  created  gods  and  therefore  mortal  in 
themselves  ;  they  were,  however,  endowed  with  immortal- 
ity through  the  goodness  of  the  Creator.  At  his  command, 
these  divinities,  particularly  the  earth,  the  most  venerable 
of  all,  produced  organized  beings,  and,  chief  among  these, 
man,  the  paragon  of  creation,  for  whom  everything  on  earth 
was  made.  Plants  were  formed  171  order  to  nourish  him,  ani- 
mals, in  order  to  serve  as  a  habitation  for  fallen  human  souls. 
Woman  herself  is  a  degeneration  of  man,  the  first-born 
son  of  Earth.  Man  is  the  epitome  of  the  macrocosm ;  his 
soul  is  endowed  with  reason  and  then  incorporated  in  a 
body.  Everything  in  this  body  is  arranged  according  to  a 
fixed  plan  and  for  a  rational  end.  The  head  is  the  seat  of 
reason  and  therefore  round ;  because  this  form  is  the  most 
perfect  of  all  and  alone  worthy  of  what  is  perfect.  It  is 
placed  at  the  top  of  the  body  in  order  to  direct  the  entire 
organism.  The  body  has  legs  for  locomotion,  and  arms 
with  which  to  take  hold  of  things.  The  breast  is  the  seat 
of  the  noble  passions ;  it  is  placed  beneath  the  head  in  order 
that  these  passions  may  be  under  the  rule  of  reason,  but 
separated  from  the  head  by  the  neck,  so  as  not  to  be  identi- 
fied with  it.  Finally,  the  coarser  appetites  reside  in  tlie 
abdomen  and  are  separated  from  the  noble  passions  by  the 


PLATO  97 

diaphragm.  In  order  to  i  subject  them  to  the  rule  of  reason 
and  the  noljler  passions,  nature  phiced  in  this  region  the 
liver,  a  smooth,  bright  organ,  wliich  resembles  a  mirror  and 
is  intended  to  reflect  the  images  of  thoughts.  It  is  com- 
posed of  bitter  and  sweet  substances  ;  by  means  of  the 
former  it  restrains  the  disordered  cravings,  and  discharges 
the  latter  when  our  desires  conform  to  reason ;  at  certain 
times  it  also  acquires  the  power  of  divination.  Finally, 
there  is  also  a  moral  reason  for  the  great  length  of  the  in- 
testine which  is  coiled  around  itself ;  this  hinders  the  food 
from  passing  tlirough  the  body  too  quickly,  and  conse- 
quently keeps  the  soul  from  having  a  constant  and  immod- 
erate desire  for  food,  a  desire  which  would  stifle  in  it  the 
love  of  wisdom  and  the  voice  of  conscience.  In  short,  the 
human  body  is,  according  to  Platonism,  a  house  of  correc- 
tion and  education,  constructed  and  organized  Avith  a  view 
to  the  moral  perfection  of  the  soul. 

The  human  soul,  like  the  soul  of  the  world  from  which 
it  emanates,  contains  immortal  elements  and  mortal  ele- 
ments ;  or  rather,  it  combines  them ;  it  is  the  union  of  the 
two,  or  the  proportion  according  to  which  these  two  kinds 
of  elements  (Idea  and  matter)  are  united  in  the  individual. 
Intelligence  or  reason  {to  Xoyta-riKov  /^epo?)  is  the  immortal 
part ;  sensuality  {to  iin6v[xr}TLK6v\  the  mortal  part,  because 
it  essentially  depends  on  corporeal  life ;  will,  energy,  or 
courage  (to  ^u/zoetSe'?),  is  the  union  of  the  two,  and  consti- 
tutes the  soul  proper  and  its  individuality.  Tlie  iniinor- 
tality  of  the  intelligent  soul  follows:  (l)from  its  simplicity, 
whicli  renders  all  decomposition  impossible ;  (2)  from  the 

1  All  these  data  are  taken  from  tlio  Timmus.  We  have  reproduced 
them  here  and  italicized  these  in  order  to's  and  for  the  purpos^e  nf's, 
simply  to  give  the  reader  a  classical  saiii]>le  of  tlu!  theory  of  final 
causes  in  its  apitlication  to  nature.  Thoujrh  the  theory  contains  a 
spark  of  truth,  it  has  for  centuries  impeded  the  progress  of  the  phy- 
sical sciences,  by  substituting  the  dreams  of  fancy  for  the  observation 
of  facts.  * 

I 


98  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

goodness  of  the  Creator ;  (3)  from  the  fact  that  it  is  the 
very  principle  of  hfe,  and  a  transition  from  being  into  non- 
being  is  impossible.  The  immortality  of  the  intelligent 
soul  is  also  proved  by  the  philosopher's  desire  to  be  freed 
from  the  body  and  its  fetters,  and  to  come  into  direct  com- 
munion with  the  intelligible  world ;  by  the  fact  that  life 
invariably  and  universally  produces  death,  and  death,  a 
new  life ;  by  the  pre-existence  of  the  soul,  which  is  demon- 
strated by  the  doctrine  of  avdfjLvr]at,<;  (if  the  soul  has  existed 
before  the  body,  why  should  it  not  exist  after  its  decom- 
position?); by  the  relation  existing  between  the  soul  and 
the  Ideas  (it  conceives  the  intelligible,  and  must  therefore 
be  homogeneous  with  it  and  akin  to  it,  that  is,  immortal, 
like  its  object) ;  and  finally,  by  the  fact  that  it  controls  the 
body,  which  would  be  inconceivable  if,  as  some  Pythago- 
reans claim,  it  were  but  the  resultant  of  the  bodily  func- 
tions. Immortality,  however,  is  the  prerogative  of  reason. 
The  eTndvfirjTLKov  cannot  lay  claim  to  it,  and  the  will 
itself,  in  so  far  as  it  is  bound  to  the  organism,  has  no  part 
in  it.i 

In  so  far  as  the  problem  of  the  soul  borders  upon  physics, 
it  cannot  be  solved  with  absolute  certainty.  There  is  no 
science  of  passing  things.  The  only  certain  science  is  the 
science  of  Ideas ;  for  Ideas  alone  are  eternal  and  necessary. 
In  the  domain  of  physics  we  must  content  ourselves  with 
probabilities ;  science  (eTnarrnxr}^  being  impossible  here,  we 
are  reduced  to  faith  (Trio-Tt?).^ 

3.     The  Highest  Good 

Man  is  the  end  of  nature,  and  the  Idea  the  end  of  man. 
As  a  consistent  idealist,  Plato,  like  Antisthenes  and  the 
Cynics,  finds  the  highest  good,  not  in  pleasure,  but  in 
man's  most  perfect  likeness  to  God.     Now,  since  God  is 

1  Phcedo,  61-107.  '  ^  Timceus,  51,  52. 


PLATO  09 

the  Good  or  absolute  Justice,  we  can  resemble  him  only  in 
justice  (SiKaLoavurj).  It  is  impossible,  says  Socrates-Plato,^ 
that  evils  should  pass  away  (for  there  must  always  remain 
something  which  is  antagonistic  to  good).  Having  no  place 
among  the  gods  in  heaven  (ef  ^eoi?),  of  necessity  they 
hover  around  the  mortal  nature  and  tliis  earthly  sphere 
(rovSe  rov  tgttov  TrepnroXel  i^  avd'yK7]^).  Wherefore  we 
ought  to  fly  away  from  earth  to  heaven  as  quickly  as  we 
can  (^XPV  ^pOevSe  eKelae  (f)evy6Lv  on  rd^iaTa),  and  to  fly  away 
is  to  become  like  God,  as  far  as  this  is  possible  {(f>vy7]  Se 
6fioLQ}at<;  TO)  dew  Kara  to  Swarov).  Now  God  is  never  in 
any  way  unrighteous ;  he  is  perfect  righteousness  ;  and  he 
of  us  who  is  the  most  righteous  is  most  like  him.^  Justice 
is  the  fundamental  virtue,  the  mother  of  the  virtues  belong- 
ing to  each  of  the  thrSe  souls.  For  the  intelligence  it  con- 
sists in  the  correctness  of  thought  {ao(f)ia,  (f)iXoao(f){a)  ;  for 
the  will,  in  courage  (avSpia) ;  for  the  sensibilit}',  in  temper- 
ance {(Tco^poavvrf) .  Wisdom  is  the  justice  of  the  mind; 
courage,  the  justice  of  the  heart;  temperance,  the  justice 
of  tlie  senses.  Piety  (ocnoTri^)  is  justice  in  our  relation 
with  the  Deity ;  it  is  synonymous  with  justice  in  general. 

i\Ian  must  be  educated  in  order  to  attain  justice  and 
thi'ough  it  to  become  like  God.  He  can  never  realize  this 
virtue  in  isolation.  Justice,  or  tlie  final  goal  of  things,  is 
realized  only  in  the  collective  man  or  in  the  State  (-TroXt?). 
Plato's  ideal  State,  like  the  individual,  embraces  three  parts 
or  separate  classes:  (1)  the  philosophers,  who  constitute  the 
legislative  and  executive  power,  the  intelligence  and  the 
head  of  the  State,  or  tlie  ruling  class;  (2)  the  warriors, 
who  are  the  heart  of  the  State,  or  the  militant  class ; 
(8)  tlie  merchants,  artisans,  agriculturists,  and  slaves,  or 
the  servant  class,  who  correspond  to  the  sensual  soul, 
which  is  restricted  to  the  lower  ])arts  of  the  human 
body.  Wisdom  Ijclongs  to  the  ruling  chuss ;  courage  to 
»  Theatetus,  170.  «  Republic,  X.,  G13. 


100  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

the  niilitaiy  class ;  obedience  to  the  two  higher  classes, 
who  think  and  fight  for  them,  belongs  to  the  laboring, 
commercial,  and  serving  classes.  In  order  that  the  col- 
lective man  or  the  State  may  form  a  real  unity  or  an 
individual  on  the  large  scale,  particular  interests  must  be 
merged  in  the  general  interest,  the  family  must  be  absorbed 
in  the  State,  the  individual  must  cease  to  be  a  proprietor. 
Henceforth  the  children  belong  to  the  State  only,  which 
forms  one  large  family .^  The  State  is  the  father  of  the 
children ;  the  State  also  educates  them.  Up  to  the  age  of 
three,  the  education  of  the  child  consists  solely  in  caring 
for  the  body.  From  three  to  six,  its  moral  education  is 
anticipated  by  the  narration  of  myths.  From  seven  to  ten, 
gymnastics.  From  eleven  to  thirteen,  reading  and  writing. 
From  fourteen  to  sixteen,  poetry  and*  music.  From  sixteen 
to  eighteen,  mathematics.  From  eighteen  to  twenty,  mili- 
tary exercises.  When  the  twentieth  year  is  reached,  the 
State  makes  its  first  selection  among  the  young  people, 
choosing  such  as  are  fitted  for  the  military  career,  and 
such  as  are  qualified  for  the  government.  The  latter  make 
a  thorough  study  of  the  different  sciences  until  they  are 
thirty  years  old.  At  the  age  of  thirty,  a  second  selection  is 
made.  The  least  distinguished  enter  upon  the  secondary 
positions  of  the  administration ;  the  others  continue  the 
study  of  dialectics  for  a  number  of  years,  and  crown  their 
education  with  ethics.  After  they  have  been  introduced 
to  the  knowledge  of  the  highest  Good,  they  are  capable  of 
assuming  the  most  exalted  duties  of  the  State.  The  latter 
is  essentially  a  pedagogical  institution,  whose  mission  is  to 
realize  Goodness  Eind  Justice  on  our  earth,  and  will  not, 
therefore,  tolerate  art  itself,  except  in  so  far  as  art  is  a 

^  This  arrangement  might  seem  strange  to  us,  did  we  not  remem- 
ber that  the  Greek  State  simply  consisted  of  the  city.  Furthermore, 
the  communistic  teachings  of  the  Republic  are  not  repeated  in  the 
Laivs. 


PLATO  101 

means  of  education,  and  is  employed  in  the  service  of  the 
Good.i 

These  deductions,  wliieh  are  idealistic  in  the  extreme, 
bring  us  back  to  the  ontology  of  Plato.  Reality,  it  must  be 
remembered,  does  not,  according  to  him,  belong  to  sense- 
objects  (or  phenomena),  but  to  the  Ideas  or  types  which 
these  ol)jects  reproduce  and  which  are  perceived  (conceived) 
by  reason  (the  noumena).  The  phenomenon  is  real,  only 
in  so  far  as  it  partakes  of  the  ideal  type  of  which  it  is  a 
copy.  Now,  the  highest  Idea,  which  is  to  the  world  of  in- 
visible realities  what  the  sun  is  to  the  phenomenal  uni- 
verse, is  the  Good  or  absolute  Goodness,  the  fu'st  and  final 
cause  of  all  being,  and  consequently  superior  and  anterior 
to  being  itself,  which  it  creates  by  natural  radiation. 

Tills  ontology  may  be  defined  as  the  monism  of  the  good. 
It  is,  undoubtedly,  the  sublimest  and  purest  product  of 
pliilosophical  genius.  Others  may  have  advanced  beyond 
it ;  no  one  has  ever  excelled  it.  Kant  himself,  who  denies 
real  existence  to  the  phenomenon,  making  it  conditional  on 
sensibility  and  the  intellect,  and  then  proclaims  practical 
reason  as  the  judge  of  theory,  and  goodness  as  the  judge 
of  truth,  is  in  reality  but  a  reproduction  of  Plato  minus  the 
poetical  element.  Modern  science  is  nominalistic  ;  never- 
theless it  regards  realism  as  relatively  true.  The  real  ob- 
ject of  science  is  the  general,  tlie  universal,  or  the  ty[)ical 
law  of  the  particular  facts.  Thus,  when  the  anthropolo- 
gist occupies  himself  with  Peter  and  Paul,  his  ol)ject  is 
to  know  what  man  is ;  and  the  physicist's  interest  in 
the  apple  that  falls  from  the  tree,  or  in  tlie  snow-flake 
that  floats  in  the  air,  or  in  the  sinking  avalanche,  is  occa- 
sioned by  the  fact  that  tliese  particular  phenomena  serve 
t()  exemplify  his  theory  of  weight.     The  modern  scientist, 

1  Hence  tlie  theatre  is  not  permitteil  in  Plato's  cominonwealth ; 
for  it  set*  before  us  a  world  in  which  good  and  evil  are  necessarily 
intermingled.  — (/^/>u/y.,  III.,  .OfH-lOj.) 


102  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

like  Plato,  regards  the  phenomenon  as  changing,  the  law 
as  stable  and  therefore  moi-e  real  than  the  particulars  (jo 
6vT(o<i  6v).  The  mistake  does  not  lie  in  exalting  the  uni- 
versal over  the  particular ;  it  consists  in  separating  the 
former  from  the  latter  metaphysically,  and  in  making  a 
transcendent  entity  of  the  genus  or  type ;  it  does  not 
consist  in  exalting  vov<;  over  at'o-^T/cri?,  but  in  making 
two  separate  and  even  incompatible  principles  of  vov<;  and 
atadrjaL'i.  In  themselves,  the  type  and  the  individual 
which  realizes  it,  the  law  and  the  phenomenon  wdiich  is 
its  ap[)lication,  are  but  one  and  the  same  reality  considered 
from  different  points  of  view ;  observation  and  reasoning 
are  merely  two  stages  of  one  and  the  same  method.  A 
physic,  a  physiology,  or  an  anatomy  that  is  the  creation  of 
pure  reason  is  inconceivable.  The  universal  must  be  de- 
rived from  the  particular,  because  it  cannot  be  found  any- 
where else.  Plato's  failure  to  escape  the  illusion  that  the 
Idea  is  something  separate,  real,  and  transcendent,  is  in  part 
due  to  the  imperfect  state  of  the  philosophical  terminology 
of  his  time.  If,  in  place  of  elSo?  (aspect,  form,  type),  he  had 
used  the  word  w'/^o?,  or  law,  the  term  with  which  modern 
science  has  become  so  familiar,  he  would  not  easily  have 
fallen  into  the  error  of  the  separatisfic  conception.  But  it 
is  not  merely  the  terminology  that  misleads  him  ;  it  is  the 
poet  in  Plato  that  impels  the  philosopher  to  realize  the 
Idea.  Aristotle,  in  a  spirit  of  controversy,  and  a  few  sin- 
cere but  unintelligent  disciiDles  of  Plato,  exaggerated  the 
realism  of  the  master,  but  the  realism  is  there  none  the 
less,^  and  its  consequences  are  only  too  aj)parent.  The 
Idea  is  real  in  itself,  and  does  not  need  to  be  realized. 
Then  the  cosmic  process  loses  its  raison  d'etre ;  it  no  longer 
consists  in  the  realization  of  an  Idea  ;  it  is  the  fall  of  a  god. 
Creation  would  be  the  overflowing  of  the  Idea,  as  it  were, 
and  the  generation  of  being,  that  is,  according  to  Plato, 
1  See  especially  Repub.,  VI,  509. 


PLATO  103 

of  spii-itual  being,  thought,  or  intelligence ;  for  the  being 
wliich  comes  from  the  Idea  must  "■  resemble  "  it  as  the 
son  resembles  his  mother.  Beinc/,  in  the  real  and  absolute 
sense  of  the  term,  and  being-mind  (thought)  are  one  and 
the  same  thing,  from  tliis  point  of  view.  Tliis  explanation 
of  the  v.'orld,  which,  to  tell  the  truth,  is  but  a  figure  of 
speech,  would  perhaps  suffice,  if  the  world  were  actually  a 
society  of  pure  spirits,  the  abode  of  goodness,  justice,  and 
perfection.  But  it  is  a  mixture  of  being  and  non-being,  of 
spirituality  and  corporeality,  of  good  and  evil.  Whence 
comes  this  second  constitutive  element  of  the  phenomenon, 
this  non-being  f  From  the  Idea  ?  Impossible.  The  Idea 
can  create  nothing  but  being,  intelligence,  and  goodness. 
Hence,  a  second  principle  that  is  co-eternal  with  the  Idea 
has  participated  in  the  creation  of  the  world ;  the  monism 
of  the  good  becomes  a  dualism  of  Idea  and  matter.  By 
coming  in  contact  with  the  latter,  the  Idea,  or  rather  in- 
telligence, its  offspring,  is  polluted,  diminished,  and  im- 
poverished. Hence,  intelligence  must  consider  matter  as 
its  natural  enemy,  as  the  chief  cause  of  its  diminution,  as 
the  seat  and  the  principle  of  evil ;  the  mind  will,  of  course, 
desire  to  be  freed,  as  soon  as  possible,  from  the  body  which 
holds  it  in  bondage,  and  from  the  visible  world,  which  is  a 
prison,  a  place  of  correction.  The  Uto})ian  system  of  poli- 
tics, wliich  sacrifices  nature  to  an  al)stract  principle,  asceti- 
cism, monachism,  the  horror  of  matter  which  we  find  among 
the  Neo-Platonists,  the  Gnostics,  and  even  Catliolics,  all 
these  elements  are  the  logical  consequences  of  a  conception 
that  makes  the  Idea  a  reality. 

Speusippus,  the  successor  of  Plato  in  the  Academy  (347- 
339),  seems  to  see  the  need  of  combining  the  One  (the  Idea) 
and  the  many  (matter)  by  means  of  a  concrete  princi})le 
that  contains  them  l;otli.  He  lays  great  weight  on  tlie 
P}'thag(uean  notion  of  emanation,  devck)})ment,  and  scries, 
wliich  forms  the  very  essence  of  2seo-I*lalonism,  luid  teaches, 


104  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

in  opposition  to  Plato,  that  perfection  is  to  be  found,  not  in 
the  original  and  abstract  unity,  but  in  the  developed,  differ- 
entiated, and  organized  unity. ^  But  his  reverence  for  the 
name  of  Plato,  and  the  position  which  he  held  as  the 
scliolarch  of  the  school  hindered  him  from  subjecting  the 
master's  view  to  an  impartial  criticism.^  The  same  is 
true  of  Xenocrates,  Polemo,  Grantor,  and  Crates,  who 
were  succeeded  by  the  sceptic  Arcesilaus.^  It  was  left 
to  Aristotle,  the  most  distinguished  among  the  pupils 
of  Plato  and  the  founder  of  a  new  school,  to  criticise 
and  reform  Academic  idealism  from  the  standpoint  of 
concrete  spiritualism. 

§   17.     Aristotle 

APvISTOTLE,*  was  born  at  Stagira,  not  far  from  Mount 
Athos,  in  385.     His   father,   Nicomachus,   the   physician 

*  Aristotle,  Met.,  XII,  7  :  To  KaWiaTov  Km  to  apiarov  fir]  iv  ap^rj  fivat. 

Cf.  §  65. 

2  Cicero,  Acad,  post.,  I,  9,  3i. 

3  See  §  21.  [For  the  Platonic  school,  see  Diog.  L.,  IV,  ch.  1-5; 
Mullach,  vol.  Ill,  pp.  51  ff.;  Ritter  and  Preller,  pp.  283  ff.  For 
further  references,  see  Ueberweg-Heinze,  I,  §  44.  —  Tr.]. 

*  Aristotle's  Complete  Works ;  the  Berlin  edition  in  5  vols. :  vols. 
I.  and  II.,  the  Greek  text  (rec.  Imm.  Bekker,  1831)  ;  vol.  III.,  a  Latin 
translation  (1831)  ;  vol.  IV.,  the  principal  commentaries  (coll.  by 
Chr.  Aug.  Brandis,  1836) ;  vol.  V.,  fragments  and  commentaries  (coll. 
by  V.  Rose),  Index  Aristotelicus  ed.  H.  Bonitz,  1870  ;  the  Didot  edition, 
5  vols.,  Paris,  1848-70;  Tauchnitz  edition,  1831-32, 1843;  [Aristotle's 
Psychology,  in  Greek  and  English,  with  introduction  and  notes,  E. 
Wallace,  Cambridge,  1882  ;  Nicomachean  Ethics,  transl.,  with  an  anal- 
ysis and  critical  notes,  by  J.  E.  C.  Welldon,  Xew  York  and  London, 
1892  ;  transl.  also  by  Williams,  Hid.,  1876,  Chase,  ibid.,  1877,  Hatch, 
ibid.,  1879,  Peters,  ibid.,  1881,  Gillies  (Sir  John  Lubbock's  Hundred 
Books),  ibid.,  1892;  Politics,  transl.  by  Welldon,  Cambridge,  1888, 
Jowett,  2  vols.,  Oxford,  1885-88,  Ellis,  with  an  introduction  by  H. 
!MorIey  (Sir  John  Lubbock's  Hundred  Books),  London,  1802 ;  On  the 
Constitution  of  Athens,  transl.  and  annotated  by  F.  G.  Kenyon,  Lon- 


ARISTOTLE  105 

of  King  Amyntas  of  ]MacedoD,  came  from  a  family  of 
physicians.  The  blood  of  experimentalists  and  positive 
scientists  flowed  in  his  veins.  In  the  year  367,  he 
entered  upon  liis  course  of  study  (as  we  should  say  now- 
adays) at  Athens,  where  he  became  lii'st  a  pupil  and  then 
the  successful  rival  of  the  veteran  Plato.  From  343  to 
340,  he  was  the  teacher  of  Alexander,  the  son  of  Pliilip. 
The  friendship  betw^een  him  and  Alexander  proved  advan- 
tageous to  Aristotle,  for  it  enabled  liim  to  accumulate  vast 
collections,  and  contributed  largely  toward  making  him  the 
father  of  natural  science.  In  334  he  began  to  teach  his 
pliilosophy  in  the  walks  of  the  Lyceum  at  Athens ;  hence 
the  name  applied  to  his  school,  and  the  epithet  given  to  liis 
disciples,  —  Peripatetics.  After  the  deatli  of  Alexander,  he 
was  accused  of  Macedonianism  and  atheism,  and  compelled 
to  retire  to  Chalcliis,  in  the  island  of  Euboea,  where  he 
died  in  322. 


don,  1891 ;  Poetics,  transl.  by  Wharton,  Cambridge,  1883  ;  Rhetoric, 
transl.  by  Welldon,  London  and  Xew  York,  1886 ;  translations  of 
the  above  and  of  the  Metapliy^oi,  Organon,  and  History  of  Animals  in 
the  Bohn  Lil)rary;  editions  of  the  Politics,  -with  introduction  by 
Kewman,  2  vols.,  Oxford,  1887,  of  tlie  Ethics,  by  A.  Grant,  2  vols., 
4th  ed.,  London,  1884,  and  Bywater,  Oxford,  1894;  German  transla- 
tions of  Ai-istotle  in  Metzler's  collection,  Hoffmann's  Uebersetzungs- 
hibliulhek,  Engelmann's  collection,  and  in  Kirchmann's  Philosophical 
Library.  —  Tu.].  The  Metaphysics  has  been  translated  into  French 
by  Pierron  and  Zdvort,  2  vols.,  Paris,  1840;  the  Politics,  Logic,  Ethics, 
Poetics,  and  Meteorology,  by  Barthelemy  Saint-IIilaire,  Paris,  1837-62. 
[For  the  philosophy  of  Aristotle,  see  Biese,  Die  Philosophic  cles  Aris- 
toteles,2  vols.,  Berlin,  18:35-42 ;  A.  Posmini-Serbati,  'Arislotele  esposto 
ed  esaminato,  Turin,  1858;  Bonitz,  Aristolelische  Studien,  I.-V.,  Vienna 
1«(;2-6G;  I-K3\ves,  Aristotle,.  Loudon,  1864;  Grote,  Aristotle,  ed.  by  A. 
Bain  and  G.  C.  Robertson,  2  vols,  (incomplete),  London,  1872,  3d  ed., 
1884;  E.  Wallace,  Outlines  of  the  Philosophy  of  Aristotle,  Oxford,  1875, 
3d  ed.,  188:5;  A.  Grant,  Aristotle  (in  Ancient  Classics  for  English 
Rf'(idirs),  Edinburgii  and  London,  1878;  David.son,  Aristotle  and  An- 
cient Ednrational  Ideals,  New  York,  1892;  Kappes,  Aristolclcs-Lcxikon, 
Paderborn,  1894.  — Tit.] 


106  GREEK  PHlLOSOrHY 

The  writings  attributed  to  Aristotle  deal  with  almost  all 
the  sciences  known  to  antiquity,  that  is,  according  to  the 
philosopher's  own  classification,^  with  the  theoretical  sci- 
ences, which  have  truth  for  their  oliject  (mathematics, 
physics,  and  theology,  or  the  fii-st  philosophy),  with  the 
practical  sciences,  which  treat  of  the  useful  (ethics,  politics, 
etc.),  and  with  the  j^oetical  sciences,  whose  object  is  the 
beautiful.  The  Categories,  the  Be  interjyretatione,  the  two 
Analytics,  the  Topics,  etc.,  which  have  been  collected  under 
the  name  Organon,  make  Aristotle  the  real  founder  of  logic. 
True,  he  was  not  the  first  to  conceive  all  the  principles 
of  logic ;  the  discussions  of  the  Eleatics,  the  Sophists,  and 
the  Socratics,  have  shown  us  how  reason  gradually  be- 
came conscious  of.  the  processes  winch  it  originally  em- 
ployed instinctively ;  thus  the  elementary  axioms,  such 
as  the  principle  of  contradiction,  the  principle  of  sufficient 
reason,  the  imncipium  e.rclusi  tertii,  the  dictum  de  oiiini  et 
nullo,  and  without  doubt  also  the  more  special  rules  of  the 
syllogism  came  to  be  formulated.  But  it  required  the 
genius  of  an  Aristotle  to  co-ordinate  these  elements,  to 
complete  them,  and  to  formulate  them  into  the  system  of 
deductive  logic,  wliich  constitutes  his  chief  claim  to  fame.^ 
The  physical  and  natural  sciences  are  ably  set  forth  in  the 
Physics,  the  De  coslo,  the  De  generatione  et  corruptione,  the 
Meteorology,  the  De  anima,  the  Parva  naturalia,  the  His- 
tory of  Animals,  the  treatises  On  the  Parts  of  Animals, 
On  the  Progression  of  Animals,  On  the  Generation  of 
Animals,  etc.  The  problems  of  philosophy  proper  are 
discussed  in  a  number  of  writings  on  first  principles, 
which  a  hiacncevaari^'i  collected  into   a    single  work  com- 

^  Metaphysics,  VI.,  1,  9. 

^  For  Aristotle's  logic,  see  Trendelenburg,  Elementa  logices  Aristote- 
lece,  Berlin,  183G  ;  8th  ed.,  1878.  lEiiduterungen,  3d  ed.,  Berlin,  1876 ; 
Prantl,  Geschlchte  de?-  Logik,  vol.  I. ;  Eucken,  Die  Methode  der  aristote- 
lischen  Forschung,  Berlin,  1872.  —  Tu.] 


ARISTOTLE  107 

prising  fourteen  books,  and  placed  after  the  writings  on 
2)Jii/sics  (^fxera  ra  ^vaLKo) :  hence  the  name  metaphysics^ 
wliich  has  since  been  applied  to  pliilosophy  proper,  a  term 
with  which  Aristotle  liimself  was  not  acquainted.  Ethics 
and  politics  are  treated  in  the  Nicomacheaii  Elhics,,  in  the 
Magna  moralia,  in  the  Eudemean  Ethics,  in  the  eight  books 
of  the  Politics.  Rhetoric  and  poetry  are  discussed  in  the 
books  known  by  those  titles.  Taken  altogether,  the 
works  of  Aristotle  constitute  a  veritable  encyclopedia 
of  the  knowledge  possessed  by  the  fourth  century  before 
Chi'ist.i 

Philosophy  is  defined  by  Aristotle  as  the  science  of  uni- 
versals  (^  kuOoXou  iina-T'qiJLr]).  Every  real  science  is,  or  at 
least  aims  to  be,  a  view  of  the  whole,  a  general  theoiy ; 
hence  the  special  sciences  are  partial  i^hilosoiyhics  {c^lKo- 
ao(f>iai),  as  well  as  general  theories  concerning  one  or  more 
groups  of  given  facts,  theories  which  are  summarized  and 
systematized  by  general  philosophy.  Conversely,  philo- 
sophy proper  or  the  fii'st  science  {Trpcorr]  cf)L\ocro(j)ia)  is  a 
separate  science  ;  it  is  co-ordinated  with  other  sciences 
(second  philosophy),  and  has  a  distinct  subject-matter  of 
its  own:  being  as  such,  the  absolute  or  God.  But  it  is 
at  the  same  time  the  universal  science  embracing  all  the 
specialties,  because  its  object,  God,  embraces  and  contains 
the  principles  of  all  the  sciences  and  the  first  causes  of 

^  For  the  lost  works,  see  E.  Heitz,  Die  verlorenen  Schriften  des  Ari- 
stoteles,  Leipsic,  18G5,  and  Fragmenta  ArUtotelis,  collegit  ]En\.  Ileitz, 
Paris,  1809.  One,  whose  loss  was  much  to  be  deplored,  the  treatise 
On  the  Constitution  of  Athens,  lias  recently  been  found  (January,  1891) 
on  a  papyrus  in  the  British  Museum.  Some  of  the  extant  works  are 
mutilated  and  form  a  confused  mixture  of  genuine  texts  and  sjiurious 
commentaries.  Some,  like  the  Caterjories,  the  De  tnterprelntione,  the 
treatise  De  Melisso,  Xenophane  et  Gorgia,  the  Eudemean  Ethics,  etc., 
are  doubtful.  Others,  at  bust,  like  the  De  motu  auimnlium,  the  (f)v(rio- 
yvufjUKtl.  the  (J'Jconoinics,  tlie  Rhetoric  to  Alexander,  etc.,  are  certainly 
bpurious. 


108  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

everything   that    exists   (?;    tmv  Trpoircov  apx^v  kuI  uItlcov 
decoprjTiKr])} 

There  was  no  doubt  in  Aristotle's  mind  as  to  the  pos- 
sibility of  science,  which  had  been  denied  by  the  Sophists 
and  the  Sceptics.  Man  is  the  only  being  who  partakes  of 
the  active  intellect,  that  is,  of  God  himself,  and  tln-ough 
him  of  the  knowledge  of  the  absolute  ;  man  alone  is  en- 
dowed with  speech.  By  means  of  language,  we  designate 
{KaTTjyopov/xev)  things  as  we  conceive  them ;  by  reason, 
we  conceive  them  as  they  are.  The  general  ways  of 
designating  things,  or  the  parts  of  discourse  (the  categories 
of  language  and  of  grammar),  correspond  to  the  different 
forms  according  to  Avhich  we  conceive  them,  or  to  the  cate- 
gories of  the  understanding  (substance,  quantity,  quality, 
relation,  place,  time,  position,  mode  of  being,  activity,  pas- 
sivity), and  these  categories  of  the  understanding  in  their 
turn  signify  the  modes  of  being  of  the  things  themselves 
(icaT'q'yoptai.  rov  6vto<;)  ;  that  is,  the  things  are  in  reality 
either  substances  or  quantities  or  relations,  etc.,  and  are 
not  merely  conceived  as  such.^ 

1.     First  Philosophy  ^ 

The  mathematical  and  physical  sciences  treat    of   the 
■  quantity,  quality,  and  relations  of  things ;  the  first  philo- 

1  Met.  I.,  2,  14.     Cf.  L,  8 ;  L,  10. 

2  Met.  v.,  7 ;  VI.,  4. 

3  For  the  Metaphysics,  consult  [Schwegler,  Die  Metaphi/sik  des  Ari- 
stoleles  (text,  translation,  and  commentary),  4  vols.,  Leipsic,  1847-49]  ; 
II.  Bonitz,  In  Arisiotelis  Metuphysica,  2  vols.,  Berlin,  1848-49;  C.  L. 
Michelet,  Examen  critique  de  Vouvrage  d'Aristote  intitule'  Metaphysiqiie, 
Paris,  1836  ;  Vacherot,  Theorie  des  premiers  principes  suivant  Aristute, 
Paris,  1837  ;  Felix  Ravaisson,  Essai  sur  la  metaphysique  d^Arislote,  Paris, 
1837  ;  Jacques,  Aristoie  considere' comme  hislorien  de  la philosophie,  Paris, 
1837;  Jules  Simon,  Etudes  sur  la  thcodicee  de  Platon  et  d'Aristote,  Pa- 
ris, 1840  ;  [Glaser,  Die  MetapJiysik  des  Aristoteles,  Berlin,  1841  ;  Bar- 
thelemy  Saint-Hilaire,  De  la  metaphysique,  etc.,  Paris,  1879  ;  Bullinger, 
Aristoteles'  Metaphysik,  Munich,  1892,  —  Tk.]. 


ARISTOTLE  109 

soph}-  lias  as  its  object  the  queen  of  tlie  categories,  the 
category  of  substance  {ovaCa),  to  which  all  the  rest  are  re- 
lated and  on  which  they  are  based.  It  inquires  into  the 
nature  of  being  as  such,  regardless  of  all  relations  of  time, 
place,  etc.  {to  ti  rjv  elvai),  that  is,  absolute  and  necessary 
being,  the  eternal  essence  of  things  as  opposed  to  the  rela- 
tive, contingent,  and  accidental.^ 

Hence  Plato  is  light  in  regarding  it  as  the  science  o^^ 
real  being  (ro  6vt(o<;  qv),  as  distinguished  from  that  which 
appears  to  he,  and  is  in  reality  but  a  passing  relation.  He 
errs  in  conceiving  the  Ideas  as  real  beings  existing  apart 
from  the  individuals  which  express  them  (IBeai  ')(Q3pi(jTaL). 
In  vain  do  we  search  in  Plato's  writings  for  the  proof 
that  Ideas  subsist  apart  from  tilings.  Moreover,  it  is 
hard  to  see  what  this  theory  accomplishes.  It  does  not 
solve  the  metaphysical  problem,  but  merely  complicates  it 
by  adding  to  the  real  world  a  world  of  useless  homonyms. 
The  separate  Ideas  do  not,  in  fact,  contribute  either  towards 
the  production,  or  the  preservation,  or  the  science  of  things 
(et?  yvcoaiv).  We  are  at  a  loss  to  know  what  is  the  rela- 
tion lietween  things  and  Ideas  (rpoiro^  /cad^  ov  rdXXa  ck 
Twv  eihoiv  eariv).  The  assertion  that  the  Ideas  are  pat- 
terns and  that  the  things  participate  in  them  is  to  speak 
vain  words,  and  to  utter  poetic  metaphors  {ro  he  Xe'yeiv 
TrapaSeiyfiara  elvai  kuI  fi€T€)(^€iv  avroiv  raWa  KevoXoyeiv 
iarl  Kal  fxeTa^opa'i  Xeyeiv  7roL7]TiKd'i).  Besides,  if  tlie  gen- 
eral Idea  is  the  substance  of  the  particulars  or  the  essence 
of  the  things,  how  can  it  exist  apart  from  that  of  whicli  it 
is  the  substance  and  the  essence  (x^pt?  t7]v  ovaiav  Kal  ov  77 
ovaia)?  The  general  cannot  exist  outside  of  and  along- 
side of  the  particular  {to  kuOoXov  p-ij  eari  tl  irapa  tcl  Kad^ 
eKucTTa).  Hence  the  Ideas  or  spccilic  types,  cf)nsi(leied  as 
siicli  and  aijart  fi'om  the  tilings,  are  not  real  beings  or  sul)- 
btances  {ovaiai),  if  we  understand  l)y  ovaia  that  wliich  exists 
1  Mei.\\.,\;  XL,  4,  7. 


110  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

by  itself. 1  Aristotle  does  not,  however,  deny  the  objective 
existence  of  species.  For  him  as  well  as  for  Plato,  the 
general  Idea  is  the  essence  of  the  i:)articular,  and  may 
be  called  ovaia^  in  so  far  as  this  word  signifies  essence. 
What  he  denies  is  that  Ideas  exist  apart  from  things 
{')(a)p(,<i).  The  Idea  is  inherent  or  immanent  in  the  thing ; 
it  is  its  form^  and  cannot  be  separated  from  it  except  by 
abstraction.  It  is  the  essence  of  the  particular  and  with 
it  constitutes  an  indivisible  whole.  For  the  ev  Trapa  ra 
iroWd  we  must  substitute  the  ev  Kara  tcov  ttoWmv  or 
iv  Tol'i  TToXXot?.^ 

On  the  other  hand,  the  materialistic  theory  is  equally 
untenable.  JNlatter  has  no  reality  apart  from  the  form 
(eZSo?,  /jLop^T],  that  is,  not  only  the  shape,  length,  breadth, 
and  height  of  the  thing,  but  all  of  its  properties).  Mattel" 
without  the  Idea  is  as  much  of  an  abstraction  as  the  Idea 
apart  from  the  particular  object  which  realizes  it.  Nor  does 
movement  exist  by  itself ;  it  presupposes  a  substratum. 
Hence,  neither  the  Idea  nor  matter  nor  movement  has  real 
or  substantial  existence ;  reality  consists  of  all  these  taken 
as  a  whole  (a-vvoXov),  or  of  the  particular  (ro'Se  tl).  Reality 
is  a  concrete  thing  {iilktov)  ;  it  contains  constitutive  ele- 
ments, which  thought  distinguishes,  but  which  do  not  exist 
apart  from  each  other.  The  most  important  (KvpLoiTepov)  of 
these  elements  is  the  Idea  or  the  form,  whicli  Aristotle  con- 
ceives as  identical  with  essence  or  soul.  Matter  is  merely 
its  support,  but  it  is  an  indispensable  support. 

The  next  question  is,  What  are  the  generative  causes  of 
real  being  ?  All  tilings  which  are  produced  either  by  nature 
or  art  have  a  material  cause  (vXrj,  vTroKei/xevov),  a  formal 
cause  (to  elSo?,  ro  tl  ian,  to  tL  r]V  elvai),  an  efficient  or 
moving  cause  (ap^V  '^V'^  jeveaecoi;,  ap-)(r}  tt]^  KLVi^aeco';,  to  odev 
rj  Kivrjcn^i  to  odev  r/  ap')(r)  t>}9  KLVqaew'i,  to  aiTLOV  Tr]<i  fxeTU' 

1  Met,  I.,  9,  15,  16;  V.,  8,  U;  XIL,  10,  22;  XIV.,  3,  12,  4,  9. 

2  Met,  III.,  4,  1 ;  Analyt.  post.,  I.,  11. 


ARISTOTLE  111 

yi9oX^9,  TO  KLvovv^  TO  KLvqTLKov),  and  a  final  cause  {to  ov  eveKa, 
TO  TeXa,  Tctjadov).^  Tims,  to  take  an  example  from  art.  A 
bed  or  a  statue  presupposes  (1)  matter :  the  wood  or  the 
marble  or  the  brass  of  which  the  thing  is  made ;  (2)  an 
Idea  (a  plan  or  a  pattern)  according  to  which  it  is  made ; 
the  idea  of  the  statue  exists  in  the  mind  of  the  sculptor, 
the  idea  of  the  bed,  in  the  mind  of  the  joiner ;  (3)  arms, 
hands,  and  tools,  as  motive  forces  and  efficient  causes  j 
(4)  a  purpose  or  motive  that  sets  these  forces  in  action, 
and  effects  the  transition  from  capacity  or  potentiality 
(SvvajjLi^)  to  actuality  (ivepyeLa).  The  same  is  true  of 
nature  and  particulaily  of  organic  nature.  A  living 
organism,  as,  for  example,  a  man,  is  the  product  of  the 
following  four  causes :  (1)  the  substance  wliich  forms  the 
starting-point  and  substratum  of  the  embryonic  develop- 
ment ;  (2)  the  Idea  or  specific  tj'pe  according  to  which  the 
embryo  is  developed,  the  form  which  it  tends  to  assume ; 
(3)  the  act  of  generation  ;  (4)  the  (unconscious)  j^urpose  of 
this  act,  namely,  the  production  of  a  new  man.  There  are, 
then,  for  every  fact  and  for  the  universal  fact  itself  (the 
world),  four  kinds  of  causes :  matter.  Idea,  force,  and  the 
final  purpose.  Through  the  cooperation  of  these  four  prin- 
ciples, the  real  being,  be  it  an  object  of  art  or  a  living 
being,  is  produced.  These  principles,  moreover,  do  not 
subsist  as  substances ;  the}^  always  inhere  in  a  particular 
thing :  every  natural  product  is  preceded  by  an  individual 
of  tlie  same  species,  from  which  it  is  generated.  Similarly, 
every  phenomenon  in  art  and  ethics  presupposes  an  actual 
cause.  Each  man  is  educated  Ijy  another  educated  man  ; 
the  efficient  cause  is  always  a  concrete  being,  and  that 
wliich  exists  potentially  becomes  actual,  only  through  the 
instrumentality  of  some  actual  thing. 

Though  philo8oi>hieal  reflection  distinguishes  four  gener- 
ative principles  of    tilings,   three   of  thorn,   the   Idea,   the 

»  Met.  I,  :i.     Cf.  Vil.,  7.  IT. 


112  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

motive  cause,  and  the  final  cause,  are  very  often  identified, 
and  constitute  but  a  single  principle  (e/a^erai  8e  to,  rpia  ek 
TO  ev  TToXXaKt^).  Thus,  in  art,  the  Idea  of  Hermes  in  the 
imagination  of  the  sculptor,  moves  his  nerves  and  muscles, 
and  at  the  same  time  constitutes  the  end  which  he  aims 
to  realize  by  means  of  matter.  Take  an  illustration  from 
nature.  A  man  is  to  be  produced.  3Ian  is  the  Idea  which 
is  realized  by  generation ;  a  man  realizes  it,  and  he  realizes 
it  in  order  to  reproduce  man  (^rb  fiev  yap  tl  ian  koI  to  ov 
eveKa  ev  ecrri,  to  8'  o6ev  t)  KivriaL^  tm  etSei  tuvto  tovtol<;  ^). 
In  both  cases  the  Idea  is  the  formal  cause,  the  motive 
c^use,  and  the  final  cause. 

There  are  then,  ultimately,  only  two  principles  of  things, 
—  the  Idea  or  for7n  which  causes  them  and  at  which  they 
aim,  and  the  matter  of  which  they  are  made:  elSo?  and 
vXi].  The  former  is  essential  and  the  cause  proper;  the 
latter  is  of  secondary  importance  and  a  mere  condition 
(avvaiTLov).  Since  these  two  principles  are  the  necessary 
antecedents  of  all  becoming,  they  cannot  have  been  pro- 
duced themseWes ;  for  in  that  case  they  would  have  had  to 
exist  even  'prior  to  being,  which  is  impossible.  They  neces- 
sarily precede  all  generation,  since  generation  is  possible 
only  through  them.^  Both  Aristotle  and  Plato  regard  mat- 
ter and  form  as  eternal ;  only,  the  Stagirite  does  not  con- 
ceive the  eternity  of  matter  to  mean  absolute  dualism.  If 
matter  and  Idea  are  diametrically  opposed  to  each  other,  as 
they  seem  to  be  in  Plato,  how  can  they  ever  be  united,  how 
can  they  co-operate  and  produce  all  things  ?  Tilings  that 
are  diametrically  opposed  cannot  be  united  {airaOi)  fyap  tcl 
kvavTia  {nr   aA,Xr;X&)V  •'^). 

Plato's  yu.77  ov^  that  is  to  say,  non-being  or  absolute  priva- 
tion {aT€priaL<i)^  and  real  matter  are  two  entirely  different 
things.  Matter  is  accidental  non-being  (kuto,  (TV/ji^e/3i]K6<;), 
whereas  privation  is  non-being  as  such.    The  conception  of 

1  Phys.,  II.,  7.  2  Id.,  I.,  10,  8.  8  3Iet.,  XII.,  10,  7. 


ARISTOTLE  113 

matter  is  one  tliat  is  closely  akin  to  the  notion  of  sub- 
stance ;  in  certain  respects  matter  is  substance  itself,  while 
privation  is  nothing  of  the  kind.^  It  is  not  the  firj  6v  or 
non-being,  but  the  ^jli]  tto)  6v  or  potential  being  (SwdfieL  6V), 
the  possibility  or  capacity  of  being,  the  germ  and  the  be- 
ginning of  becoming.  Concrete  being,  or  the  particular, 
represents  the  development  of  this  germ,  the  realization  of 
tliis  possibility,  the  potential  actualized  (ivepyeia).  Matter 
is  the  germ  of  the  form,  the  potential  form ;  the  form,  in  turn, 
or  rather  the  union  of  form  and  matter,  which  constitutes 
the  particular  thing,  is  matter  in  actuality. ^  Thus,  in  the 
teclmical  field,  wood,  the  matter  of  which  the  table  is  made, 
is  a  potential  table ;  the  finished  table  is  the  same  wood  in 
energy.  Brass  is  a  potential  statue ;  the  statue  is  the 
actualization  of  the  brass.  In  nature,  the  egg  is  a  bird  in 
capacity ;  the  bird  is  its  ivepyeta.  Matter  is  the  beginning 
of  all  things  ;  the  Idea  (shape  or  form)  is  the  goal  for 
which  it  strives ;  matter  is  the  rudimentary  or  imperfect 
state  ;  the  form  is  the  perfection  or  completion  (ivreXey^eia). 
If  v\r]  were  synonymous  with  arepj]aL<;^  matter  could  not 
become  anything,  it  could  not  be  united  with  a  form  or 
assume  those  definite  outlines  which  define  the  real  being ; 
for  from  nothing  nothing  can  come.  Instead  of  struggling 
against  the  form,  it  strives  after  it,  it  desires  it  (opeyerai  % 
as  the  female  desires  the  male.*  Matter  and  Idea  or  form 
are,  therefore,  correlative  notions  ;  instead  of  excluding 
each  other,  they  presuppose  and  supplement  each  other ; 
motion  or  evolution  (Kivrja-i';,  jxera^oXr] )  is  the  term  which 
mediates  between  them ;  motion  is  the  transition  or  trans- 

1  Php.,  X.,  10,  4. 

2  3/e/.,VIII.,  6,  19. 

»  It  is  identical  with  Leibniz's  conception  of  effort  (§  56),  and 
Scliopenliaucr's  u-ilt  or  will  to  be  (^  Gl).  Aristotle  iiiniself  uses  the 
expression  ^ovXtadm,  in  sjjeaking  of  nature  (I'olit.,  I.,  L',  'J,  14j. 

*  Phyx.,  I.,  10,  7. 

8 


114  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

formation  of  the  former  into  the  latter.  Hence  the  impor- 
tance ascribed  by  Aristotle  to  the  idea  of  movement ;  ^  it 
enables  him,  in  a  certain  measure,  to  escape  the  dualism  of 
Plato,  which  the  latter  himself  had  attempted  to  avoid  by 
means  of  the  conception  of  number  or  ylrv^i].  His  entire 
system  is  founded  on  the  trinity  of  Svvafxa,  Kivr)aL<i,  and 
ivepjeta.^  If  matter  is  to  form  what  capacity  is  to  energy, 
the  germ  to  the  finished  organism,  then  the  02:)position 
between  the  two  principles  is  far  from  absolute,  and  all 
things  are  both  potentiality  and  actuality,  matter  and  form. 
Brass  is  form  or  energy  in  relation  to  the  raw  mineral, 
matter  or  potentiality  in  relation  to  the  statue.  The  tree 
of  which  a  bed  is  made  is  form,  shape,  or  actuality  in  rela- 
tion to  the  seed  from  which  it  grew,  formless  matter  in 
relation  to  the  bed.  The  youth  is  form  (ivepyeia  iarl)  in 
relation  to  the  infant,  formless  matter  in  relation  to  the 
grown  man. 

The  rule  that  every  being  is  both  form  and  substratum, 
idea  and  matter,  soul  and  body,  admits  of  but  a  single  ex- 
ception :  the  Supreme  Being  is  pure  form  and  without  mat- 
ter. According  to  Aristotle,  matter  invariably  forms  the 
starting-point  for  a  process  of  develojjment ;  it  is  the  ante- 
cedent of  a  higher  perfection.  Now  the  Supreme  Being  is 
absolute  perfection  ;  hence  he  contains  no  matter  for  a  more 
exalted  being;  in  short,  he  is  immaterial.  Aristotle  here 
seems  to  contradict  the  nominalistic  theory,  on  which  his 
polemic  against  the  separate  Ideas  of  Plato  is  based,  and, 
above  all,  refutes  his  own  statement  that  everything  is 
material  {airavra  v\r]    eari^).      But  this   difficulty  jjartly 

1  Id.,  III.,  1  if. 

2  Met.,  XII.,  5,  6  ;  10,  21.  Cf.  XII.,  2,  10  :  Tp'ia  8r)  rh  mna  Km  rpe'is 
ai  dpxai,  k.  t.  X.  The  difference  in  the  names  (aTeprjon,  vXt],  popcprj) 
i.s  not  fundamental ;  for  Aristotle  has  in  mind,  on  the  one  hand,  the 
three  phases  of  being  (elvai),  on  the  other,  the  three  constitutive  prin- 
ciples of  existence  (ov). 

8  Met.,  XII.,  3,  8. 


ARISTOTLE  115 

disappears  wlien  we  take  into  consideration  his  definition 
of  the  word  matter.  He  means  by  it  matter  that  has  not 
yet  been  formed,  the  provisional  as  opposed  to  the  final ;  it 
denotes  imperfection,  capacity,  undeveloped  germ.  If  this 
is  what  is  meant  by  matter,  then,  evidently,  every  being-  in 
the  universal  scale  of  beings  is  idea  or  perfection,  as  coiu- 
pared  -to  the  lower  stages,  and  matter  or  imperfection,  as 
compared  to  higher  beings  ;  and  the  Supreme  Being  —  but 
the  Supreme  Being  only  —  is  pure  idea,  pure  form,  or  pure 
actuality.  Aristotle  also  declares  that  the  last  matter  (mat- 
ter in  the  final  stage  of  development)  and  the  form  are  the 
same  (?;  iax<iTr]  vXrj  koL  rj  /jLop(f)ij  ravTo  ^).  Hence  we  may 
conclude  that  he  would  not,  perhaps,  have  objected  to  call- 
ing the  Supreme  Being  icrxart]  vXtj  or  the  final  stage  of 
the  universal  evolution,  though  he  would  have  denied  that 
this  higher  phase  of  existence  is  in  part  material.  But 
he  does  not  accept  the  pantheistic  conception  of  an  abso- 
lute that  develops,  and  is  matter  before  being  form,  poten- 
tiality he/ore  being  energy .^  If  the  Supreme  Being  had  first 
existed  in  germ  and  as  potentiality,  then  it  would  have 
been  necessary  for  an  actual  being  to  exist  antecedent 
to  God  in  order  to  energize  tliis  germ  and  to  make  God 
actual ;  for  not  only  does  all  seed  come  from  a  pre-existent 
actual  being,  but  no  capacity  ever  becomes  actual  wdthout 
the  cooperation  of  an  actual  being.  Not  capacity  but 
energy,  not  the  potential  but  the  actual,  not  the  imper- 
fect but  the  perfect,  is  the  first  principle  anterior  and 
superior  to  everything  else.-''  T1iis  favorite  conception  of 
Aristotle  really  agrees  with  the  Kleatic  doctrine  :  ex  nihilo 
nihil ;  its  logical  conseq\ience  is  the  negation  of  the  chaos 
as  the  original  form  of  existence,  if  we  may  apply  tlie  term 
"form"  to  the  formless  as  sucli,  or  to  the  complete  absence 

J  hi.,  Vlir.,  G,  If).     Cf.  Vir.,  10,  -27  ;  XIL,  3,  8;  10,  8. 
"-  hi,  XI r.,  7,  l!)-2().     Cf.  Plnj^  ,  II.,  0,  G. 
»  Ibid. 


116  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

of  all  order.  Since  form  or  absolute  energy  and  matter 
are  both  eternal,  it  follows  that  matter  has  never  been 
without  form,  and  that  there  never  was  a  state  of  chaos.^ 

The  eternal  actual  Being  is  both  the  motive  or  generat- 
ing cause,  the  form,  and  the  final  goal  of  things. 

It  is  the  first  mover  and  itself  immovable  {irpcoTov  klvovv 
ov  KiVQv^evov).  The  existence  of  this  first  mover  is  the 
necessary  consequence  of  the  principle  of  causality.  Every 
movement  implies,  in  addition  to  the  thing  moved,  a  moving 
principle,  which,  again,  receives  its  motion  from  a  higher 
motive  force.  Now,  since  there  can  be  no  infinite  series  of 
causes,  we  are  obliged  to  stop  at  a  first  mover.  To  deny 
this  and  at  the  same  time  to  assume  the  reality  of  motion, 
to  assume  with  Leucij^pus,  Democritu's,  and  others,  an  in- 
finite series  of  effects  and  causes  without  a  first  cause,  is 
to  violate  one  of  the  most  fundamental  laws  of  thought. 
Moreover,  the  first  cause  acts  forever,  and  the  ensuing 
motion  is  likewise  eternal.  The  universe  has  neither  a 
beginning  nor  an  end  in  time,  although  it  has  its  limits 
in  space. 

Here  a  difficulty  {airopia)  arises  :  How  can  that  which 
is  immovable  and  remains  so,  move  ?  How  can  the  mo- 
tive cause  act  without  setting  itself  in  motion  ?  It  must 
be  assumed  that  God  acts  as  the  beautiful  and  the  desirable 
act.  Thus,  a  master-piece  of  art  or  nature  moves  and 
attracts  us,  and  yet  remains  completely  at  rest  itself. 
Similarly,  the  ideal  which  I  strive  to  realize,  or  the  goal 
at  which  I  aim,  sets  me  in  motion  without  moving  itself. 
So,  too,  matter  is  moved  by  the  eternal  Idea  {to  ri  rjv  elvai 
TO  TrpcoTov)  without  the  slightest  movement  on  the  part  of 
the  absolute  being.  It  has  a  desire  for  God  (opeyeTai),  but 
God  is  the  first  cause  of  this  desire.^ 

Inasmuch  as  the  Supreme  Being  is  immaterial,  it  can 
have  no  impressions,  nor  sensations,  nor  appetites,  nor  a  will 
1  Met.  XII.,  6,  15.  2  j,j^^  XII.,  7,  3. 


ARISTOTLE  117 

in  the  sense  of  desire,  nor  feelings  in  the  sense  of  passions ; 
all  these  tilings  depend  on  matter,  the  passive  or  female 
principle,  the  recipient  of  the  form.  God  is  j^ure  intelli- 
gence. The  human  understanding  {vov<i  iradrjTLKO'i)  passes 
from  a  potential  state  through  the  stages  of  sensation,  per- 
ception, and  comparison.  The  divine  vov<i  has  an  imme- 
diate intuitive  knowledge  of  the  intelligiljle  essence  of 
things.  Our  discursive  thought  pursues  an  ol)ject  whicli 
is  different  from  it  and  which  cannot  be  attained  cxcej)t  by 
gradual  stages,  wlule  the  absolute  thought  is  identical  with 
its  object.  Since  nothing  is  higher  than  God,  and  since  the 
thought  of  God  has  the  highest  possible  object,  God  is  the 
object  of  his  own  thought  (voT]aeQ}<i  voija-a).  God's  life  is 
free  from  all  pain  and  imperfection,  and  therefore  beyond 
desire  and  regret  (aTraOi]^) ;  it  is  supremely  happy ;  hu- 
man life  with  its  emotions  is  but  a  feeble  image  of  it. 
God  enjoys  what  Ijut  few  favored  mortals  enjoy,  and  then 
only  for  a  limited  period  of  time  ;  his  life  consists  in  the 
pure  contemplation  of  the  intelligible  truth,  in  Oecopia 
[Siwycoyy]  S'  icrrlv  oia  rj  apiart]  fiLKpbv  "^pouov  rj/xlp  i). 

As  the  iinal  cause  of  the  universe  and  the  highest  good 
(to  ayadov  koI  to  apiarov)^  God  is  both  in  the  things  or 
tlieir  immanent  essence  {rd^L<i)  and  ahuve  the  things,  apart 
from  the  world,  or  transcendent  (/ce^ajptcr/xeVoi^  tl  koX  avrb 
Kad'  avTo).  Discii)line  exists  both  in  an  army  and  outside 
of  it  in  the  mind  of  the  general.  Similarly,  God  is  both 
the  law  and  the  law-giver,  the  order  and  the  orderer  of 
tliinos .2  Everything  is  organized,  ordered,  and  harmonized 
])y  liim  and  witli  a  view  to  iiim ;  and  since  he  is  one  (mat- 
ter alone  is  iiiiiiiifold  ■'),  tlicre  can  be  but  one  single,  eternal 
universe.  Conversely,  the  unity  which  prevails  in  the 
world  proves  tlie  unity  of  God.    Ovk  a^yaOhv  iroXvKotpaviiy 

€i9   KOipaVO<i   tCTTO).^ 

»  Afet.,  XII,  7,  11.         2  /,/.,  XIT.,  10,  1,  2.         '  Id.,  YIU.,  G,  21. 
*  Id.,  XII.,  10,  2:3  ((iuotatiou  I'rom  lloincr). 


118  GREEK  THILOSOPHY 

On  this  principle  of  principles  depend  the  heavens  and 
nature.^ 

2.    Second  Philosophy,  or  the  Philosophy  of  Nature 

According  to  Aristotle,  the  sky  is  the  perfect  sphere  of 
which  the  earth  is  supposed  to  be  the  centre ;  nature  is 
everything  within  this  sphere  that  is  subject  to  motion  or 
to  rest ;  or,  more  abstractly,  it  is  motion  itself,  in  no  far  as 
the  latter  emanates  from  the  first  mover  and  is  continued 
by  the  secondary  causes.  Physics  is  a  tlieory  of  motion.^ 
It  inquires  into  the  immovable  principle  (the  divine),  the 
imperishable  moving  power  (the  heaven),  and  the  perish- 
able world  or  sublunary  nature.^  There  are  as  many  kinds 
of  movement  as  there  are  categories  of  being.*  The  prin- 
ciDal  ones  are :  (1)  movement  that  affects  the  substance,  or 
origin  and  decay  {jepeaL^;  koI  cf)dopd) ;  (2)  movement  that 
affects  the  quality,  or  change  of  quality,  alteration  {Klvr^aa 
KUT  ctWoicoaLv,  fieralSoXr]) ;  (3)  movement  that  affects  the 
quantity,  or  addition  and  subtraction  {kivi^o-l^  kut  av^i^cnv 
Kol  (^Oiaiv) ;  (4)  local  movement,  or  change  of  place  ((f)opd, 
Kivi]aL<i  Kara  top  tottov  ^).  The  first  (origin  and  decay),  how- 
ever, is  not,  strictly  speaking,  a  movement,  while,  of  the 
other  three,  change  of  place  is  regarded  l\y  all  the  physi- 
cists, and  especially  by  Anaxagoras,  as  the  most  important, 
the  most  universal,  and  the  most  original  form  of  motion.^ 
Motion,  change,  energy,  or  cntelechy^  is  the  realization  of 
the  potential  as  such.'  But  it  is  not  a  substance  (ovcria), 
and  does  not  exist  apart  from  the  things  which  it  affects 
(jrapa  ra  TrpdyfjLara). 

1  Met.,   XII.,  7,    11  :  'Ek  Touwrrj^  I'lpa  apxn^   rjpTrjTai   6   ovpavh'S  K.a\   rj 

2  Phis.,  ni.,  1,  1.  »  Id;  II.,  7.  *  Id.,  III.,  1,  2. 
6  Id.,  III.,  1,  7.                      «  Id.,  VIIT.,  10. 

'  Id.,  III.,  1,  7:  *H  Tov  dvvafjifi  ovTos  eWeXe^j^rta. 


ARISTOTLE  119 

Space  (%w/3a,  r67ro<i)  is  more  like  a  substance.  It  is, 
however,  ueitlier  the  material  of  wliich  bodies  are  made, 
as  Plato  erroneously  supposes  in  the  Timmus.}  nor  their 
form,  nor  the  interval  which  separates  them  {8idaTi]fj,a), 
but  the  limit  between  the  surrounding  and  the  surrounded 
body,2  between  the  contents  and  the  container.  Tliis  sin- 
gular definition  is  intended  by  Aristotle  as  a  disavowal  of 
the  conception  that  there  is  such  a  tiling  as  empty  space 
separating  boches  fi'om  each  other  (the  k€v6v  of  Democritus), 
a  view  which  he  regarded  as  erroneous.  Movement,  ac- 
cording to  him,  does  not  imply  the  existence  of  the  void ; 
it  is  invariably  a  change  of  place  of  cUfferent  bodies.  The 
condensation  of  a  body  presupposes  the  rarefaction  of  the 
surrounding  body,  and  vice  versa.  Consequently,  there  is 
no  void  either  in  the  bodies  or  outside  of  them.^  Since 
space  cannot  be  conceived  without  movement,  the  im- 
moval)le  (the  divine)  is  not  in  space.  Moreover,  inasmuch 
as  space  is  the  boundary  between  the  container  and  the 
contained,  and  since  the  universal  is  not  contained  in  any- 
tliing,  but  contains  everything,  the  universe  or  the  All 
cannot  occupy  a  particular  place.  Hence  the  universe, 
or  the  whole  of  things,  does  not,  strictly  speaking,  move. 
Its  parts  alone  suffer  a  change  of  place.  Taken  as  a 
whole,  however,  it  can  only  revolve  upon  itself.  Indeed, 
certain  portions  f)f  the  heavens  move,  not  upwards  and 
downwards,  l)ut  in  a  circle,  and  only  the  denser  or  lighter 
substances  are  carried  downwards  and  upwards.^ 

Like  space,  time  exists  only  as  the  condilion  of  motion  ; 
it  is  the  measure  or  number  of  motion.  It  is  potentially 
infmite  like  motion  (whatever  Plato  may  say  of  it),  and 
this  distinguishes  it  from  s])a(^e  which  is  limited.  It  is 
nonsense  to  speak  of  an  actually  intinite  space.     Inhnit) 

1  I>l,;,s.,  I  \'.,  1 . 

-   f/f.,  IN'.,  <) :  To  ntixii  nw  TitjntxnvTi)^  tToJuaToa. 

'  lU.,  IV.,  8.  *  M,  IV.,  7,  5. 


120  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

is  merely  potential  and  never  actual ;  for  the  actual  has 
form  ;  it  is  determined  or  finite  ;  the  potential  is  not  finite, 
but  infinite.  Conversely,  infinity  has  potential  existence 
only  in  the  infinite  multiplication  of  numbers  and  the  in- 
finite divisibility  of  magnitudes.  Now,  time  is  the  measure 
of  motion  and  consequently  a  numljer,  and  number  pre- 
supposes a  person  who  can  count.  Hence  it  follows  that 
time  presupposes  a  soul  and  cannot  exist  except  for  a 
numbering  soul.^ 

We  distinguished  between  several  kinds  of  movement, 
the  most  important  of  which  is  called  change  of  place. 
The  latter,  again,  has  different  forms.  The  fii'st  and  the 
most  perfect  of  these  is  movement  in  a  circle,  which  is 
the  only  motion  that  can  be  endless,  simple,  and  uniform. 
Rectilinear  motion  cannot  be  constant,  and  is  therefore 
less  perfect  than  the  other.  It  cannot  be  continued  ad 
infinitum,  because  Aristotle's  universe  is  limited ;  hence, 
in  order  to  continue,  it  must  return  upon  itself  or  become 
oscillatory ;  and  there  is  bound  to  be  a  stop,  however  mini- 
mal it  may  be,  at  the  point  where  the  movement  begins 
again  to  go  in  the  oj^posite  direction. 

Circular  movement  and  rectilinear  movement  upward 
and  downward  are  the  two  great  forms  of  Kivricn^  in  the 
physical  world.  The  former,  which  is  the  most  ]3erfect, 
because  it  is  simple  and  continuous,  belongs  to  the  highest 
heavens  (tt/ocoto?  oupavo^),  the  solid  vault  which  supports 
the  fixed  stars  ;  ^  the  latter,  wliich  is  less  perfect  because 

1  PJnjs.,  IV.,  20,  4. 

2  The  modern  theory  of  heavenly  bodies  moving  in  space,  a  view 
which  prevailed  among  the  lonians  and  the  Pythagoreans,  seems  to 
be  wholly  foreign  to  Aristotle.  When  he  speaks  of  the  heaven  and 
its  motion,  he  does  not  mean,  by  metonymy,  the  motion  of  the  stars 
enclosed  in  this  space ;  his  idea  is  that  the  heaven  itself,  that  is,  the 
entire  series  of  concentric  spheres,  which  consist  of  the  same  sub- 
stance as  their  stars,  moves.  lie  also  likens  the  motion  of  the  stars  to 
the  movement  of  a  person  seated  in  a  chariot ;  the  person  is  immov- 
able and  yet  advances  as  the  chariot  advances. 


ARISTOTLE  121 

it  is  not  absolutely  continuous,  moves  the  lower  or  central 
parts  of  the  universe.  The  eternal  revolution  of  the  outer- 
most heavens  around  the  axis  of  the  world  is  immediately 
caused  by  the  immovable  first  mover,  who  moves  the  other 
parts  of  the  world  only  indirectly  and  by  means  of  the 
7r/3WTo<f  ovpavof;.  Hence,  the  sphere  of  the  fixed  stars  is 
in  the  rrpoorov  klvovv  Kivov/jLevov,  the  first  moved  mover,  and 
communicates  its  motion  to  the  lower  or  planetary  spheres 
(Sevrepo^  oupav6<;).  These  solid  but  transparent  spheres,  of 
which  there  are  about  fifty,  revolve  around  a  common  cen- 
tre, the  centre  of  the  earth,  wliich  is  also  the  centre  of  the 
world.  But  their  movement  is  no  longer  a  simple  move- 
ment;  they  rotate  from  left  to  right,  like  the  outermost 
heaven,  but  they  also  move  from  right  to  left.  This  com- 
plicated movement  can  only  be  explained  on  the  assump- 
tion that  each  sphere  has,  in  addition  to  the  fu'st  moved 
mover,  a  particular,  relatively-independent  mover.  Finally, 
the  central  sphere,  that  is,  the  earth  and  its  iidiabitants,  its 
ocean,  and  its  two  atmospheres,  is  placed  under  the  direct 
guidance  of  the  XDlanets  and  under  the  indirect  influence  of 
the  fixed  stars.  It  does  not  revolve  around  its  own  axis, 
but  executes  complex  movements,  the  fundamental  form 
of  which  is  upward  and  downward  movement. 

Tliins'S  that  move  downwards  from  the  universal  circum- 
ference  to  the  universal  centre  are  called  heavy;  things 
that  move  ujjwards  from  the  earth  towards  the  sky  are 
called  liglit.  Tlie  opposition  between  heavy  and  light  is 
the  same  as  that  between  cold  and  warm ;  for  experience 
shows  tliat  cold  air  falls  and  warm  air  rises.  On  this 
douljle  opposition  depends  the  differentiation  of  elements. 
Heavy  and  cold  matter  forms  the  earthy  or  solid  element; 
lifdit  and  warm  matter  produces  fire.  Water  and  air,  that 
is,  moisture  and  diyness,  form  two  intermediate  elements, 
whose  purpose  is  to  reconcile  tlie  contrary  extremes. 
Altliough    Aristotle    thus    assumes    the    four    aroixda   of 


122  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

Empedocles,  he  maintains  with  Heraclitus  and  Democritus 
that  these  elements  are  homogeneous,  and  that  they  rep- 
resent successive  transformations  of  one  and  the  same 
matter.  In  fact,  experience  sliows  liim  tliat  solids  pass 
into  liquids,  liquids  into  gases,  gases  into  fu-e,  and  vice 
ve7'sa,  that  fire  and  gases  are  liquefied,  and  liquids  solidi- 
fied. Hence,  he  identifies  the  chemical  notion  of  element 
with  the  physical  notion  of  state. 

The  chfference  existing  between  the  elements  of  sub- 
lunary matter  depends  essentially  on  the  nature  of  the 
movement  peculiar  to  the  earth,  and  does  not  extend 
beyond  our  world.  It  is  not  found  in  the  celestial  spheres, 
which  consist  of  pure  ether.  Tliis  ether  is  not  a  fifth  ele- 
ment Qrreinnov  aroLxeiov^,  as  has  been  erroneously  believed, 
but  the  original  and  neutral  substance  which  Anaximander 
called  the  direLpov,  and  which  is  the  substratum  common  to 
the  four  elements  of  the  terrestrial  sphere.  There  can  be 
no  dense  liquid,  gaseous,  or  fiery  elements  in  the  heavens, 
because  there  is  no  contrast  between  heavy  and  liglit,  cold 
and  warm,  in  that  region ;  and  this  contrast  does  not  exist 
in  the  heavenly  spheres,  because  rectilinear  and  vertical 
motion  is  unknown  there. 

Removed  as  they  are  from  the  contrasts  of  our  perishable 
world,  and  coming  into  direct  communion  with  the  first 
mover,  who  dwells  in  the  outermost  heaven,^  the  bright 
inhabitants  of  the  sides  enjoy  happiness  unalloyed,  and  are 
endowed  with  immortality.  They  of  all  beings  most  re- 
semble the  unmoved  first  mover.  Their  movements  are 
not  arbitrary ;  what  seems  to  be  an  imperfection  is  in  reality 
a  divine  prerogative.  Even  the  free  man  is  much  more 
determined  in  his  actions  than  the  slave  and  the  animal ; 
for  he  obeys  the  established  laws  of  tlie  State,  while  they 
contribute  but  little  to  public  affairs,  and  habitually  act  by 
chance.2  The  more  reason  a  being  possesses,  the  more  reg- 
1  Phys.,  Vm.,  14,  24.  2  Met.,  XII.,  10,  4. 


ARISTOTLE  123 

ular  are  its  acts,  and  the  less  arbitrary  is  its  behavior. 
Moreover,  the  more  immovable  the  secondary  gods  are,  the 
more  they  resemble  liim  in  whom  there  is  neither  move- 
ment nor  change  of  any  kind.  As  immovable  beings,  any 
numljer  of  them  can  exist  in  one  and  the  same  sphere.  The 
planets,  which  are  inferior  in  dignity  to  the  fixed  stars,  are 
likewise  immortal  and  nncreated  beings  endowed  with  life 
and  activity.^  The  movers  of  the  planets  impart  to  their 
respective  spheres  movements  that  are  opposed  to  the 
divine  and  perfect  movement  of  the  TrpoJro'i  ovpavos^  thereby 
declaring  their  independence  of  the  Deity  and  their  hostility 
towards  the  universal  order.  We  have  here  the  beginning 
of  evil,  but  so  small  a  beginning  that  the  life  of  Mercury, 
Venus,  Mars,  Jupiter,  Saturn,  the  Sun  and  the  IMoon,^ 
is,  as  compared  with  the  life  of  the  earth,  a  divine,  perfect, 
and  happy  existence. 

The  operation  of  the  four  elements,  and  the  perpetual 
change  of  bodies  resulting  from  it  (the  iravra  pel  of  Hera- 
clitus),  are  confined  to  the  terrestrial  and  sublunary  sphere. 
Tills  is  the  sphere  of  becoming,  l)irth,  and  death,  and  —  in 
so  far  as  ^vai<i  signifies  production,  generation,  or  becom- 
ing—  the  stage  of  nature  proper  as  distinguished  from  the 
sky,  which  is  the  abode  of  the  strpernatural.,  tliat  is,  of  the 
unchangeable  and  everlasting.^  'Jlie  opposition  between 
earth  and  heaven,  evddoe  and  e'/cet,  the  Here  and  tlie  Beyond, 
the  natural  and  the  supernatural,  has  not,  it  is  true,  the 
same  meaning  and  import  in  Aristotle  as  in  Catholicism ; 
still  it  is  certain  that  this  dualism  adds  to  liis  cosmology  a 
tinge  of  Platonic  mysticism  that  contrasts  with  his  onto- 
logical  principles.  It  was  this  (bialistic  conception  of  an 
eaitli  placed  in  the  centre  of  the  world  and  a  God  placed 
at  the  periphery,  as  far  from  the  earth  as  possible,  that 

1  De  ccelo,  2U2. 

*  !)(>tli  Kuri  ami  moon  an;  considered  as  ])lanel9. 

»  Met.,  XI.,  G,  12. 


124  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

caused  the  Church  to  adopt  the  Aristotelian  system,  and 
led  to  its  being  forced  upon  the  minds  of  men  as  revealed 
truth,  even  after  the  great  majority  of  scientists  had  taken 
sides  with  Copernicus. 

Aristotle's  meteorology  is  more  independent  than  liis 
astronomical  theories,  which  are  based  on  the  preconcep- 
tions of  his  age.  The  terrestrial  atmosphere  comprises  two 
regions  (tottol),  one  of  which  is  moist  and  cold,  and  sur- 
rounds the  earth  and  the  ocean ;  while  the  other  is  formed 
of  an  element  that  is  lighter  and  warmer  than  air,  called 
TTvp  by  Heraclitus,  and  extends  to  the  vault  of  the 
heavens. 1  In  the  liighest  atmosphere  are  situated  the 
comets  and  the  milky-way  (!).  The  lower  atmosphere  pro- 
duces winds,  storms,  rainbows,  and  other  meteors,  which 
are  explained,  in  the  same  way  as  earthquakes  and  tides, 
by  the  reciprocal  action  between  the  upper  and  lower 
atmospheric  strata  and  the  waters  of  the  earth.  Aristotle's 
theory,  or  at  least  his  explanation  of  aerial  and  ocean  cur- 
rents, contains,  as  we  see,  a  shadow  of  the  truth.  But  it 
is  in  the  sjjhere  of  natural  science  proper  that  his  genius 
bursts  forth  in  all  its  grandeur. 

The  organic  world  is  the  real  domain  of  fmal  causes. 
Here,  more  than  anywhere  else,  nature  reveals  herself  as 
an  artist  of  infinite  capacity,  universally  choosing  the  sim- 
plest and  the  best  means  of  arriving  at  her  goal.  What 
distinguishes  nature  from  art  (rex^v)  is  this :  The  goal  at 
which  the  artist  aims  exists  in  his  thought  as  a  clearly-con- 
ceived idea,  while  in  nature  it  exists  as  an  instinct.  There 
is  an  end  to  be  realized  in  the  case  of  the  bird  which  cre- 
ates itself  as  well  as  in  tlie  case  of  tlie  bed  that  is  made  by 
the  joiner.  In  order  to  become  a  reality,  the  end  bed 
needs  the  hands  of  the  joiner ;  the  end  hird  realizes  itself ; 
in  both  instances,  however,  final  causes  play  an  important 
part.  But,  what  of  the  objection  that  nature  sometimes 
1  Meteorology,  1,  3. 


ARISTOTLE  125 

produces  monsters  ?  Well,  mistakes  may  be  made  in  her 
domain  as  well  as  in  the  domain  of  art.  A  grammarian 
may,  in  spite  of  his  knowledge,  make  a  mistake  in  spelling ; 
a  physician,  though  skilful,  may  administer  the  wrong- 
medicine.  So,  too,  errors  can  creep  into  tlie  operations  of 
nature,  and  monstrosities  are  merely  deviations  from  a  goal 
that  is  aimed  at  without  success.^  Nature  desires  the  best 
without  always  being  able  to  achieve  it.^  Her  mistakes 
must  be  charged  to  matter,  not  to  the  active  idea.^  Fur- 
thermore, it  would  be  absurd  to  deny  natural  teleology  sim- 
ply because  we  do  not  see  in  natm-e  a  deliberating  motive 
principle.  Art  does  not  deliberate  either ;  in  the  majority 
of  cases  there  is  no  need  of  reflection.  Art  moves  from 
without,  nature  from  within.  If  the  art  of  naval  construc- 
tion were  in  the  wood,  it  would  resemble  natiu'e  in  its 
action.^  Hence  nature  acts  teleologically  as  well  as  art.^ 
The  end  or  iDurpose  is  the  verij  i^riiiciple  that  makes  her 
ad^  and  'pre-exists  in  principle  in  the  organisms  p)roduced 
hi/  herJ 

Organisms  differ  from  inorganic  bodies  in  that  they  are 
impelled  by  an  inner  principle  (j^v^v},  which  employs  a 
number  of  organs  (opjava)  in  order  to  realize  its  purposes. 
The  vegetable  kingdom  is  not  an  end  in  itself ;  the  animal 
which  lives  on  the  i)lant  is  its  end.  Hence  the  soul  of  the 
plant  simply  performs  the  functions  of  assimilation  and 
reproduction  (^t6  OpemiKov).  The  soul  of  tlie  animal  has, 
in  addition,  the  faculty  of  feeling  {to  ala-OrjriKov),  to  wliich 
is  added,  in  liigher  animals,  the  capacity  to  retain  sense- 
impressions  (fiv-qfij]).  The  sensations  of  sight,  hearing,  smell, 
taste,  and  touch,  meet  in  a  connnon  sense  (kolvt)  atadrjai'i), 

1  Phys  ,  If.,  8,  9.  »  Pullllrs,  I.,  2,  14,  19.  «  Phijs.,  IT.,  8,  8. 

*  'I'liis  is  what  inoderii  metaphysics  calls  the  immanent  teleology  of 
uature. 

•  Phys.,U.,8,  1.',  Ifj.  0  j,i^  u.,  y,  4 
'  Mel.,  IX.,  S;   De  ]»irt.  aiiiiii  ,  II.,  1. 


126  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

which  synthesizes  them  and  constitutes  a  rudimentary  form 
of  inner  apperception.  The  soul  of  the  animal  is  suscep- 
tible of  pleasure  and  pain  ;  hence  it  strives  for  what  makes 
an  agreeable  impression  upon  it,  and  shuns  the  contrary  (to 
opeKTLKov^  the  active  faculty  or  will).  Hence  the  spon- 
taneous movement  of  the  animal  {(fiopd,  to  KivTjrtKov  Kara 
Tov  TOTTov).  In  addition  to  all  these  endowments  of  animal 
life,  the  human  soul  possesses  the  faculty  of  knowledge  or 
reason  (to  StavorjTLKov).  Owing  to  this,  man  is  the  master- 
piece of  nature,  the  most  perfect  organic  being  (ex^i-  o 
avOpunro'i  ttjv  (fivaiv  a7roTtTeXeo-/x€VT]v  ^).  He  is  the  linal 
goal  (TeXa)  at  which  nature  aims  throughout  the  advan- 
cing forms  of  the  animal  kingdom.  Her  failure  to  attain 
this  goal  immediately  is  due  to  the  resistance  of  matter; 
but,  untiring  in  her  eiforts,  she  makes  many  attempts  which 
come  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  final  purpose  for  which  she 
strives,  until  the  end  is  finally  realized.  So,  too,  the  young 
artist  tries  a  thousand  times  before  completely  realizing  his 
conception. 

The  organic  world  therefore  forms  an  ascending  scale. 
The  organisms  and  their  corresponding  souls  are  per- 
fected in  the  measure  in  which  the  ultimate  piu'pose 
of  the  zoological  development,  the  human  species,  pene- 
trates and  overcomes  inorganic  matter.^  Corres]3onding 
to  the  elementary  plant-soul  we  have  an  organism  in 
which  up  and  down  are  distinguishal)le,  but  in  which 
there  is  no  difference  between  front  and  back,  right  and 
left ;  the  plant  has  its  mouth  below  (the  root)  and  its 
genital  apparatus  above  (the  flower)  ;  it  has  no  back  or 
chest.  A  body  corresponds  to  the  animal  soul,  in  which 
is  found  the  double  ojoposition  between  up  and  down, 
right  and  left.  In  man,  at  last,  the  up  and  down  coin- 
cides with  the  absolute  up  and  down. 

^  Historia  animalium,  IX.,  I. 

*  The  fuudameutal  conception  of  comparative  anatomy. 


ARISTOTLE  127 

The  animal  kingdom  is  divided  into  two  classes,  one 
of  wliicli  embraces  sanguineous  animals,  viz.,  mammalians, 
bii'ds,  tislies,  amphibia ;  wliile  the  other  consists  of  insects, 
crustaceans,  testaceans,  and  mollusks.^  Warmth  is  in 
separable  from  life,  and  the  relative  perfection  of  an 
animal  directl}^  depends  upon  the  amount  of  lieat  in  it. 
Aristotle  believes  in  spontaneous  generation  on  a  grand 
scale,  although  he  denies  it  in  the  case  of  higher  ani- 
mals. Owing  to  his  ignorance  of  the  facts  established 
by  modern  geology  in  reference  to  the  changes  which  the 
earth  has  undergone,  he  seems  to  assume  the  eternity  of 
life  and  of  species  a  parte  ante  as  well  as  a  parte  post. 

The  relation  existing  between  the  organized  body  and 
the  soul,  its  vital  principle,  is  the  same  as  that  existing  be- 
tween matter  and  form,  potentiality  and  actuality,  capacity 
(8vuafMi<;)  and  function  (ivTeXe^eia).  Because  of  this  inti- 
mate correlation,  the  organized  body  exists  and  lives  only 
for  the  sake  of  the  soul,  which  is  its  final  cause  or  the  pur- 
pose for  which  it  exists  (to  ov  eveKa  to  aMfxa)  ;  but  the  soul, 
too,  is  a  reality  only  in  so  far  as  it  animates  something,  in 
so  far  as  it  is  the  soul  of  a  body,  the  energy  of  an  organ- 
ism, the  function  of  an  instrument  {evTeXe-xjeia  tov  crcofxaTo^). 
Without  the  body  the  soul  may,  indeed,  exist  potentially 
(Bwdfiei),  but  not  actually  or  in  reality  (ivep'yeia).  It  is, 
according  to  Aristotle,  as  impossible  to  feel,  to  desire,  and 
to  will,  without  the  necessary  corporeal  organs,  as  it  is  to 
walk  without  feet  or  to  make  a  statue  out  of  nothing 
(^ahi^eiv  avev  ttoSwi',  opav  ciuev  6(f)da\fj.o)V,  avSpi,a<;  dvev 
XaXKOv^).  The  soul  is  to  the  body  what  cutting  is  to  the 
axe ;  the  function  of  cutting  w(juld  be  the  soul  of  the  axe 
if  the  latter  were  a  living  being.  Now,  just  as  cutting  is 
impossible  without  an  axe,  so  too  the  constitutive  functions 
of  the  soul  are  inseparable  from  the  body. 

^   I>e  partiliiis  anundlium,  T.,  •?. 

*  Di;  (jeueratione  iniimiillmu,  II.,  '-i.     Cf.  Mr/.,  ^'II.,  11,  11. 


128  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

From  the  relation  ol:)taining  between  the  organism  and 
its  vital  principle,  it  necessarily  follows,  in  the  second 
place,  that  metempsychosis,  or  the  doctrine  according  to 
which  any  soul  may  inhabit  any  body,  is  impossible.  Since 
the  soul  is  the  function  of  the  body,  or  rather,  the  sum  of 
its  functions  or  the  resultant  of  its  forces,  it  is  evident  that 
its  manifestations  or  acts  (that  is,  in  the  last  analysis,  the 
soul  itself,  since  it  is  essentially  action  and  energy)  are 
determined  by  the  nature  and  special  organization  of  the 
body  which  it  animates.  We  cannot  produce  the  tones  of 
the  flute  by  means  of  an  anvil,  nor  the  sound  of  an  anvil 
by  a  flute.  It  is  equally  impossible  to  have  a  human  soul 
in  the  body  of  a  horse,  and  vice  versa. 

The  body  is  potentiality  or  capacity,  and  the  soul  its 
energy  or  function.  The  latter,  again,  is  potentiality  or 
capacity,  or  rather  a  sum  of  capacities  {Svvd/j.eL<;)  ;  it  con- 
sists of  the  capacities  of  feeling,  perceiving,  and  willing, 
of  which  sensation,  perception,  and  volition  are  the  actions 
or  energies.  Hence  the  soul  is  the  entelechy  or  primary 
function  of  an  organized  bod//,  and  its  manifestations  or 
effects  are  the  secondary  functions  or  energies  of  this 
body.i 

In  so  far  as  the  soul  is  sensation,  imagination,  memory, 
and  will,  it  suffers  the  fate  of  all  earthly  things ;  it  is  perish- 
able {^dapro^  2).  The  intellect  itself  has  a  mortal  part  in 
addition  to  its  immortal  and  divine  element.  The  mortal 
part  comprises  the  sum  of  our  ideas  in  so  far  as  these  are 
determined  by  bodily  impressions,  that  is,  whatever  the 
intellect  receives,  suffers,  and  does  not  create  or  bring 
forth.  The  entire  passive  side  of  the  intelligence  (i^oO? 
iraOrjriKo^)  shares  the  fate  of  the  body,  without  which  it 
cannot  be  conceived.     Only  the  active  intellect  (voC?  ttoit]- 

1  De  anima,  II.,  1  :  Ei  8/;  ri  koivov  €n\  Trda-rjs  '^vxrjs  Set  'Keyeiv,  e'lrj  av 
ivTiKi^eia  17  Trparr]  aafiaros  (pvaiKoii  opyaviKov. 

^  De  anhna,  III.,  5 :  'O  Se  ivadrynKos  vovs  (pdapTos- 


ARISTOTLE  129 

Tt/cd?),  tlie  pure  reason,  which  conceives  the  universal  and 
the  divine,  enjoys  the  privilege  of  immortality ;  for  it  alone 
cannot  be  explained  as  a  function  of  the  body ;  nay  it  is 
essentially  different  {-fvxr'i'i  ^evo^  hepov)  and  separable 
(Xcopio-Tov)  from  this,  while  tlie  other  faculties  cannot  be 
separated  from  it  (ra  Xolttci  p,6pLa  rr}?  t/tui^t}?  oiiic  eari 
^(opiard  ^).  The  active  intellect  is  not  a  capacity,  but  an 
actual  being  {ovaia  ivepyeia  u>v)  ;  it  is  not  a  product  of 
nature,  a  result  of  the  development  of  the  soul,  like  sen- 
sibility, imagination,  and  memory ;  it  is  not  a  product,  an 
effect,  or  a  creature  at  all,  but  an  absolute  principle  (Oelov), 
that  existed  before  the  soul  as  w^ell  before  the  body,  and 
was  united  with  it  mechanically  {dvpadev).  This  separate 
intellect  (%cy/3to-To?)  is  absolutely  immaterial  (aiiLyr]<i),  im- 
passive {anraOrj^),  imperishable,  and  eternal  {adavaro'i  koI 
atSco^) ;  without  it  the  passive  and  perishable  intellect  can- 
not think  (dvev  tovtov  ovSev  voel  ^). 

This  seeming  immortality,^  with  which  Aristotle  endows 
the  soul,  again  disappears  when  we  remember  that  not  only 
does  the  active  intellect  not  constitute  the  thinking  indivi- 
dual, but  that  it  does  not  even  form  a  part  of  him,  —  that  it 
comes  from  without  (OvpaOev),  and  is  not  bound  to  the  7ne 
by  any  organic  tie.  It  is  hard  to  tell  what  Aristotle  really 
means  by  this  active  intellect,  and  the  majority  of  his  many 
commentators  have  exhausted  their  wits  in  trying  to  explain 
it.  Tlie  logic  of  the  S3'stem  demands  that  we  identify  it 
with  God  himself ;  for  its  definition  agrees,  in  every  re- 
spect, with  tliat  of  tlie  absolute  vov<;.^  Moreover,  Aristotle 
cannot  assume  a  plurality  of  sei)arate  intelligences  without 
contradicting  a  pi'liicipli'  <>f  his  nictaphysics :  vjhatever  is 
plural  is  material:'     'i'lic  vov'i  ttolijtiko^  is  declared  to  be 

*  De  anliiia,  11.,  0. 

2  /J.,  III.,  .').     Cf.  De  (jener.  el  cvrnij,!..  11,  :{. 
»  Mrf.,  XII..  ■■'>,  li>.  ^  Jhul. 

•  Id.,  XIII.,  (i,  'Jl. 

» 


130  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

absolutely  immaterial  {airaOri^,  ctfiiyri^).  Hence  it  can  only 
exist  in  the  singular :  it  is  unique,  and  resembles  tlie  im- 
manent reason,  the  world-soul,  or  the  universal  spirit  (\0709 
rov  Traz^To?)  of  Stoic  pantheism,  of  which  the  particular  souls 
are  temporary  personifications.  The  transcendency  of  the 
God  of  Aristotle  Avould  not  exclude  such  an  interpreta- 
tion, for  the  Metaphysics  affirms  both  the  transcendency  of 
the  Deity  and  his  immanency  in  the  universe  as  the  phy- 
sical and  moral  order  of  the  world ;  but  what  excludes  it 
is  the  very  emphatic  assertion  that  the  active  intellect  is 
substantial  {ovTO<i  6  vov^  x^pLaTo<i  kol  airadr]^  koX  a/xLyr]^,  ry 
oua-ia  wv  ivepyeia  ^).  Logically,  tliis  intellect  can  be  nothing 
but  the  Supreme  Being  himself.  When  Aristotle  allows 
himself  to  call  the  vov<i  atSLo<;  a  part  of  the  soul  and  its  im- 
mortal part  at  that,  we  shall  say  that  his  logic  is  at  fault. 
One  tiling,  however,  is  certain :  by  affirming  that  the  eter- 
nal intelligence  alone  is  immortal,  he  positively  denies 
individual  immortality.  On  this  point  of  the  Peripatetic 
teaching  there  cannot  be  the  slightest  dispute. 

The  active  intellect  (TrotT^ri/co?)  is  by  no  means  identical 
with  the  human  intellect,  and  its  immortality  is  of  little  or  no 
use.  Indeed,  according  to  Aristotle's  theory  of  knowledge, 
which  is  closely  akin  to  the  teachings  of  Democritus  and 
sensationalism,  the  human  understanding  is  not  the  creator 
or  the  father  (TroLrjr^-i),  but  only  the  recipient  or  the  mother 
of  ideas.  It  is,  by  nature,  devoid  of  all  content,  and  re- 
sembles an  empty  tablet  or  a  wliite  page  (jpafxfiaretov  u>  firjOev 
virapx^i-  ivreXexe^ajeypafi/Jievov^).  Peripatetic  sensualism 
does  not,  however,  exclude  the  excipe  intellectum  of  Leibniz, 
but  assumes  that  ideas  pre-exist  in  the  mind,  if  not  actually, 
potentially  at  least  (Swdfiei) ;  in  other  words,  it  maintains 
that  the  mind  originally  possesses,  not  ready-made  ideas, 
but  the  faculty  of  forming  them.s     The  ex  nihilo  nihil  is 

1  De  anima,  III.,  5.  ^  Id.,  III.,  4. 

f  See  the  discussions  of  this  subject  by  Locke  and  Leibniz  (§§  56 
and  57). 


ARISTOTLE  131 

one  of  Aristotle's  fundamental  doctrines.  Although  he 
holds  that  the  infant  mind  is  an  empty  tablet,  that  expe- 
rience is  the  source  of  our  knowledge,  that  intelligence 
is  developed  and  realized  by  sensation,  he  does  not  teach 
either  an  anti-philosophical  dualism  or  a  vulgar  mechan- 
ism. On  the  contrary,  dualism  affirms  one  of  the  principles 
of  knowledge  to  the  exclusion  of  the  other ;  it  isolates 
thought  and  keeps  it  from  having  intercourse  with  nature, 
on  the  plea  that  any  increase  produced  through  the  senses 
would  be  a  pollution.  Plato  teaches  such  a  dualism.  As 
far  as  Aristotle  is  concerned,  the  charge  of  dualism  may 
-with  justice  Ije  brought  against  his  theology,  on  the  one 
hand,  and  his  theory  of  the  active  intellect,  on  the  other. 

The  presence  of  the  vov<;  makes  the  human  soul  an  inter- 
mediate being  between  the  animal  and  God.  In  seiisibilit}^ 
perception,  and  niemor}",  it  resembles  the  animal ;  in  reason 
it  is  like  God.  This  dual  aspect  constitutes  its  originality 
as  a  moral  being.  There  can  be  no  morality  without  the 
coexistence  of  animal  and  intellectual  principles.  The  ani- 
mal is  not  a  moral  being,  because  it  is  devoid  of  intellect. 
Nor  can  there  be  any  question  of  morality  in  the  case  of  God, 
who  is  pure  thought.  Hence  morality  is  the  distinguish- 
ing characteristic  of  human  nature,  and  if  the  end  of  every 
being  is  the  complete  and  j^erfect  realization  of  its  nature, 
the  end  of  human  life  consists  neither  in  the  one-sided 
development  of  the  animal  functions  nor  in  changing  man 
into  God  (\\hich  would  be  foolish  and  impossible),  but  in 
the  complete  and  harmonious  expansion  of  our  dual  essence. 
For  man  the  highest  good  consists  in  the  happiness  (evSai- 
liovia)  resulting  from  the  harmonious  cooperation  of  the  in- 
tellect and  the  animal  elements.  Such  a  state  of  equilibrium 
constitutes  virtue.  Tlie  liarmoii}'  between  the  active  and 
passive  intellect  is  called  intellectual  virtue  {aperr}  Btavorj- 
TLKrj) ;  this  manifests  itself  as  wisdom  in  theoiy,  and  as 
prudence  or  common-sense  {(^p6vr]cn<;^  ev^ovXia)  in  practice. 


132  GHEEK  PHILOSOPHY 

The  harmony  between  the  intellect  and  the  will  is  called 
ethical  virtne  {aperrj  7]6iki])^  that  is,  courage,  temperance, 
liberality,  magnificence,  magnanimity,  gentleness,  sincer- 
ity, and  sociableness.  Virtue  is  not  the  extreme  opposite 
of  vice  (as  Plato  holds) ;  it  is  the  mean  (ro  jxeaov)  between 
two  extremes  {aKpa).  Courage,  for  example,  is  a  virtue, 
and  as  such  the  mean  between  timidity  and  foolhardiness ; 
liberality  is  the  mean  between  avarice  and  prodigality. ^ 

Inasmuch  as  man  is  (f)V(r€t  ^cpov  ttoXltiicov^  individuals 
cannot  make  and  change  the  State  at  will ;  on  the  con- 
trary, the  State  forms  the  individuals.  The  family,  prop- 
erty, and  slavery  are  natural  institutions.  It  is  no  truer 
that  the  same  form  of  government  is  as  suitable  to  all 
nations  and  circumstances  than  that  the  same  garment  fits 
everybody.  The  monarchy  is  the  best  form  of  government 
when  the  power  is  in  the  hands  of  a  good  prince ;  for  in 
this  case  it  is  an  image  of  the  government  of  the  universe : 
a  perfect  monarchy  under  a  perfect  monarch.  But  this 
form  is  the  m.ost  odious  of  all  when  it  becomes  tyranny. 
The  safety  of  the  State  consists  in  a  just  apportionment 
of  powers,  and  depends  essentially  on  tlie  strength  of 
the  middle  classes.^ 

Aristotle's  ethics  and  politics,  like  his  metaphysics,  are 
decidedly  antagonistic  to  the  Utopian  ideals  of  Plato.  He 
is  a  realist  and  a  positivist,  a  common-sense  thinker,  so  to 
speak,  and  takes  into  special  account  the  facts  of  experi- 
ence ;  he  is  exceedingly  careful  not  to  set  up  an  ideal  goal 
which  humanity  can  never  reach.  His  entire  philosophy  is 
a  doctrine  of  the  golden  mean,  and  as  far  removed  from  a 
coarse  sensationalism  as  from  an  idealism  that  is  out  of 
harmony  with  real  life.  In  his  love  of  science  for  science's 
sake,  the  suppleness  and  versatility  of  his  genius,  his  predi- 
lection for  measure,  proportion,  and  the  harmony  of  the 

^  NicomacTiean  Elides,  II.,  5  ff .  ^  Politics,  IV.,  9. 


ARISTOTLE  133 

ideal  and  the  real,  Aristotle  represents  the  climax  of  Greek 
thouo-ht.  But  he  also  marks  its  decline,  and  inaugurates 
a  new  epoch  in  the  general  evolution  of  humanity.  He 
resembles  a  Semite  or  a  Roman  in  the  unremitting  good 
sense  wliich  he  displays,  and  in  his  sober  positivism.  His 
style  is  not,  like  that  of  his  master,  the  work  of  the  Muses. 
But  liis  pliilosophy  is  even  more  realistic  in  matter  than 
in  form.  His  fundamental  metaphysical  teacliing,  which 
makes  matter  a  necessary  element  of  fhiite  existence ;  the 
epistemological  doctrine  that  the  mind  is  an  empty  tablet  ; 
his  monotheism,  wliich  is  much  more  outspoken  and  absol- 
ute than  Plato's ;  his  morality  of  the  golden  mean ;  Ids 
monarchical  tendencies,  —  everj-thing  about  his  system  is  a 
forecast  of  the  new  world,  the  elements  of  which  were  pre- 
pared at  Bella,  Rome,  Alexantbia,  and  Jerusalem. 

AmoncT  the  most  distinj^uished  scholarchs  who  succeeded 
him  in  the  Lyceum  are  to  be  mentioned  Theophrastus,^ 
Dicsearchus,^  Aristoxenus,'^  and,  above  all,  Strato  of  Lamp- 
sacus,*  the  teacher  of  Ptolemy  Philadelphus.  Aristoxenus 
denies  the  immortality  of  the  intellect,  and  Strato  the  exist- 
ence of  God ;  which  proves,  either  that  the  master's  doctrine 
of  immortality  and  the  first  mover  was  merely  an  accom- 
modation, or  that  his  ancient  followers  were  even  less 
united  than  his  mediaeval  disciples.  What  distinguishes 
the  pupils  from  the  master,  and  what  characterizes  post- 
Aristotelian  philosophy  as  a  whole,  is  the  gradual  division 
of  scientific  labor  A\'hich  takes  place  after  Aristotle.  The 
work  of  Aristotle  the  scientist  was   continued  in  Sicily, 

^  Cicero  ar/  Attic,  II.,  16;  Acad,  post.,  I.,  9;  De  fini!)us,\.,  5,  12; 
Tuscul.  v.,  9  ;  Siini)licius,  Iti  P/n/s.,  f.  225.  [See  also  for  Theopliras- 
tus  and  other  disciples  of  Aristotle,  Hitter  and  Preller,  pp.  3(il  ff.  ; 
Mullach,  vol.  II.,  pp.  29:}  ff.  ;  Writings  edited  by  Schneider,  1818  ft'. ; 
Fragments,  hy  Wiinmer,  1851,  1862.  — Tu.] 

2  Cic,  Tuscul.  I.,  10.  3  Jhltl. 

*  Cic.  de  nat.  deor.,  1,  13;  De  Jin.,  V.,  5;  Diutj.  L.,  V.,  58;  Siiiv 
pliciu.-*,  loc.  cil. 


134  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

Eg3rpt,  and  the  islands  of  the  Mediterranean  ;  while  Athens, 
and  in  Athens  the  Lyceum  itself,  merely  retained  a  philoso- 
phy of  reasoning,  dialectics,  and  eristics,  which  cared  less 
and  less  for  the  physical  cosmos^  and  devoted  its  entire 
attention  to  the  soul. 

What  is  the  essence,  the  aim,  the  destiny  of  the  human 
soul,  the  favorite  toj)ic  of  Attic  pliilosophy  ?  Plato  regards 
thought  as  the  essence  and  end  of  the  soul,  and  Aristotle's 
theology  is  at  bottom  simply  an  apotheosis  of  roO?.  Epi- 
curus, however,  like  Democritus,  negates  the  thought- 
substance  and  teaches  a  philosophy  of  pleasure.  Between 
these  two  extremes  we  have  the  concrete  Spiritualism  of 
the  Stoics. 


B.    Apotheosis  of  Matter.    Negation  of  the 
Thought-Substaxce 

§  18.     Epicurus 

Epicurus  ^  was  born  about  340,  at  Gargettos,  of  Athenian 
parents.  Reflection  on  liis  mother's  superstitious  practices 
and  the  study  of  Democritus  made  him  sceptical,  and 
convinced  him  that  our  fear  of  the  gods  and  the  hereafter 
is  the  principal  obstacle  to  the  happiness  of  man ;  and  it  is 
the  business  of  philosophy  to  make  us  happy  by  freeing  us, 
tlii'ough  observation  and  reasoning,  from  the  belief  in  the 

^  Sources  :  Diog.  L.,  X. ;  Cic,  Defin.,  I. ;  Lucretius,  De  rerum  natura  : 
Sext.  Emp.,  Adv.  math.,  XI. ;  Gassendi,  De  vita,  moribus,  et  doctrina 
Eplcuri,  1647,  and  Syntagma  pldlosopMce  Epic,  1655 ;  The  Studies  on 
Epicurus  and  Lucretius  by  J.  Rondel  (Paris,  1679),  Batteux  (1758), 
etc. ;  Ritter  and  Preller,  pp.  373  if. ;  Guyau,  La  morale  d' Epicure  et 
ses  rapports  avec  les  doctrines  contemporaincs,  Paris,  1878;  [Trezza,  Epi- 
curo  e  V  Epicureismo,  Florence,  1877,  2d  ed.  INIilan,  1885;  P.  v.  Gizycki, 
Ueher  das  Leben  und  die  MoralphilosopMe  des  Epikurs,  Halle,  1879; 
W.  Wallace,  Epicureanism,  London,  1880 ;  Usener,  Epicurea,  Leipsic, 
1887.  See  also  Grote's  Aristotle,  and  Susemihl,  mentioned  p.  140. — ■ 
Tk.1. 


EPICURUS  135 

supernatural.  In  the  society  wliicli  he  founded  at  Athens 
about  306,  his  personal  influence  seems  to  have  been  very 
great,  and  the  maxims  which  he  dictated  to  his  cUsciples 
[KvpLai  So^ai)  formed  the  permanent  basis  of  the  Epicurean 
teacliing  long  after  his  death  (270).  But  neither  polythe- 
ism nor  Clu'istianity  had  any  interest  in  preserving  his 
numerous  writings,^  nearly  all  of  which  have  been  lost,  and 
this  Socrate  double  cVun  Voltaire  has  been  more  bitterly 
attacked  than  any  other  founder  of  a  school. 

Unlike  Aristotle,  who  loves  science  for  science's  sake, 
and  considers  the  tirst  philosophy  as  the  best  and  most 
divine  science^  "although  others  may  be  more  useful," ^ 
Epicurus  makes  science  the  servant  of  life,  and  is  inter- 
ested in  theory  only  in  so  far  as  it  is  related  to  practice. 
The  aim  of  philosophy,^  which  he  cUvides  into  the  canonic 
(logic),  physics,  and  etliics,  is,  according  to  him,  to  make 
human  life  tranquil  and  peaceful  {arapa^ia),  and  this  aim 
he  finds  realized  in  the  system  of  Democritus,  w4th  whom 
he  agrees  in  almost  every  respect. 

Matter  is  not  non-heinr/,  as  Plato  holds,  but  the  positive 
and  onl}^  principle  of  things,  the  universal  substratum,  of 
which  soul,  mind,  and  thought  are  mere  accidents  (avfiTrroi}- 
fiara  rj  (rv/x^e/SrjKora).  Outside  of  it,  there  is  nothing  but 
the  void,  the  condition  of  movement.  Matter  is  composed 
of  innumerable,  uncreated,  and  indestructible  atoms  in  per- 
petual motion.  According  to  Democritus,  these  coipuscles 
naturally  and  necessarily  mo^■e  downward.     But  inasmuch 

1  About  three  hundred,  according  to  Diogenes  Laeriius.  With  tlie 
exception  of  the  Letters,  etc.,  preserved  by  this  historian,  we  know 
nothing  of  the  lost  writings  except  what  we  can  learn  from  the  quota- 
tions found  in  various  Greek  authors,  the  valuable  re'sMme' presented 
by  Lucretius  in  his  Dc  rerurn  nntura,  and  the  fragments  of  the  work 
TTfpi  (})va«os,  etc.,  discovered  at  Ilerculaneum. 

2  Met.,  I.,  2,  19-2.5. 

*  Epicurus  defines  it  as  follows  :  'Epfpyf la  Xoyots  kqi  SiaXoyianon  tuv 
iviaifxova  ^lov  irfpinotovaa  (Sext.  Emp.,  A'lv.  iiialh.,  XI.,  I'llt). 


136  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

as  they  are  joined  together  and  form  bodies,  it  must  be 
assumed,  according  to  Epicurus,  that  they  deviated  from 
the  perpendicuhir  line.  Such  a  deviation  couhl  only  have 
been  the  result  of  chance.  Epicurus  is  not,  therefore,  an 
absolute  determinist,  for  he  assumes  chance,  that  is,  the 
possibility  of  an  effect  without  a  cause.  This  view  allows 
him  to  recognize  in  etliics  the  freedom  of  indifference,  or 
causes  without  effects.^ 

But  though,  by  an  inconsistency  that  does  more  credit  to 
his  imagination  than  to  his  logic,  he  differs  from  Democritus 
on  the  subject  of  causality,  he  agrees  with  him  regarding 
the  eternity  of  the  universe.  The  absolute  creation  and 
absolute  destruction  of  the  world  are  out  of  the  question. 
Creation  in  the  proper  sense  of  the  term  is  impossible.  In 
order  to  convince  ourselves  that  the  world  is  not  the  work 
of  the  gods,  we  have  simply  to  consider  the  nature  of 
its  alleged  creators,  on  the  one  hand,  and  its  imperfections, 
on  the  other.  Why  should  such  perfect  and  supremely 
happy  beings,  who  are  self-sufficient  and  have  no  need 
of  anything,  burden  themselves  with  creating  the  world? 
Why  should  they  undertake  the  difficult  task  of  governing 
the  universe  ?  Let  us,  however,  suppose  for  a  moment  that 
the  Avorld  is  their  product.  If  they  have  created  it,  they 
have  created  it  either  eternally  or  in  time  ;  in  the  former 
case,  the  world  is  eternal ;  in  the  latter,  we  have  two  pos- 
si])ilities:  Either  creation  is  a  condition  of  divine  happi- 
ness, and  then  the  gods  were  not  supremely  happy  for  an 
entire  eternity,  inasmuch  as  they  did  not  create  the  world 
until  after  the  lapse  of  an  eternity  of  inaction ;  or,  it  is 
not,  and  in  that  case,  they  have  acted  contrary  to  their 
innermost  essence.  Moreover,  what  could  have  been  their 
purpose  in  making  it?  Did  they  desire  a  habitation? 
That  would  be  equivalent  to  saying  that  they  had  no  dwell- 
ing-place for  a  whole  eternity,  or  at  least,  none  worthy  of 
1  Lucretius,  De  rerum  nutura,  II.,  216  ff. ;  Diog.  L.,  X.,  133-134:. 


EPICURUS  137 

tliem.  Did  they  create  it  for  the  sake  of  man  ?  If  they 
made  it  for  the  few  sages  whom  this  workl  contains,  their 
work  was  not  worth  the  ti'ouble ;  if  they  did  it  in  order  to 
create  wicked  men,  then  they  are  cruel  beings.  Hence  it 
is  absokitely  impossible  to  hold  that  creation  is  the  work 
of  the  gods. 

Let  us  examine  the  matter  from  the  standpoint  of  the 
world.  How  can  we  assume  that  a  world  full  of  evils  is 
the  creation  of  the  gods  ?  What  have  we  ?  Barren  deserts, 
arid  mountains,  deadly  marshes,  uninhabitable  arctic  zones, 
regions  scorched  by  the  southern  sun,  briars  and  thorns, 
tempests,  hail-storms  and  hurricanes,  ferocious  beasts,  dis- 
eases, premature  deatlis  ;  do  they  not  all  abundantly  prove 
that  the  Deity  has  no  hand  in  the  governance  of  things  ? 
Empty  space,  atoms,  and  weight,  in  short,  mechanical 
causes,  suffice  to  explain  the  world;  and  it  is  not  neces- 
sary for  metaphysics  to  have  recourse  to  the  theory  of 
final  causes.  It  is  possible,  nay,  it  is  certain  that  gods 
exist :  all  the  nations  of  the  earth  agree  to  that.  But 
these  supremely  happy  beings  who  are  free  from  passion, 
favoritism,  and  all  human  weaknesses,^  enjoy  absolute 
repose.  In  their  far-off  home  they  are  unmoved  by  the 
miseries  of  humanity;  nor  can  they  exert  any  influence 
on  the  life  of  man.  There  can  be  no  magic,  divination, 
or  miracles,  nor  any  kind  of  intercourse  between  them 
and  us. 

"SVe  should  cease  to  fear  the  punishments  of  Tartaras. 
Tlie  soul  Ls  material,  and  shares  the  fate  of  the  body. 
What  proves  it  to  be  matter  —  exceedingly  iine  matter,  of 
course  —  is  the  influence  exercised  upon  it  by  tlie  body  in 
fainting,  aria'stliesia,  and  delirium,  in  cases  of  injury  and 
disease,  and  above  all,  the  fact  tliat  the  advance  and 
the  decline  of   the  soul  correspond  to  analogous  bodily 

^  Diof^.  ly.,  X.  '[■')'■)  :  To  fiuKupiov  Km  ii<^6aj)Tov  .  .  .  oSr  opyais  ovrt 
^dpicn  (Tvvi)(fTaL.    tv  daOfvei  yup  nuv  tu  Tmnvruv. 


138  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

conditions.  The  intellectual  faculties  are  weak  in  the 
period  of  childhood ;  they  grow  strong  in  youth,  and 
gradually  decay  in  old  age.  Sickness  causes  a  serious 
reaction  upon  the  soul ;  without  the  body  the  soul  has  no 
power  to  manifest  itself.  Nay,  more  than  that ;  the  dying 
man  does  not  feel  his  soul  gradually  withdrawing  from 
one  organ  to  another,  and  then  finally  making  its  escape 
with  its  powers  unimpaired ;  he  experiences  a  gradual 
diminution  of  his  mental  faculties.  If  the  soul  retained 
full  consciousness  at  death,  and  if,  as  certain  Platonists 
maintain,  death  were  the  transition  of  the  soul  to  a 
higher  life,  then,  instead  of  fearing  death,  man  would  re- 
joice at  it,  which  is  not  the  case.  Moreover,  our  fear  of 
death  is  not  caused  by  our  dread  of  non-existence ;  what 
makes  us  regard  it  with  such  terror  is  the  fact  tliat  we 
involuntarily  combine  with  the  idea  of  nothingness  an  idea 
.)f  life,  that  is,  the  notion  of  feeling  this  nothingness ;  we 
•magine  that  the  dead  man  is  conscious  of  his  gradual 
destruction,  that  he  feels  himself  burning,  or  devoured  by 
the  worms,  that  the  soul  continues  to  exist  and  to  feel.  If 
only  we  could  succeed  in  wholly  separating  the  idea  of  life 
from  its  opposite,  and  bravely  relinquish  all  thought  of  im- 
mortality, death  would  lose  its  terrors.  We  should  say  to 
ourselves  :  Death  is  not  an  evil ;  neither  for  him  who  is 
dead,  for  he  has  no  feeling;  nor  for  the  living,  for  him 
death  does  not  yet  exist.  As  long  as  we  are  alive,  death 
does  not  exist  for  us,  and  when  death  appears  we  no  longer 
exist.  Hence  we  can  never  come  in  contact  with  death ; 
we  never  feel  its  icy  touch,  which  we  dread  so  much. 

Consequently,  we  should  not  be  hindered  by  foolish  fears 
from  attaining  the  goal  of  our  existence,  happiness.  Pleas- 
ure is  the  highest  good ;  not  the  pleasure  accompanying  a 
passing  sensation  (rjBovrj  iv  /civijaei),  but  pleasure  as  a  per- 
manent state  (rjSovrj  KaraaTTi^aTLK-q)^  —  that  state  of  deep 
peace  and  perfect  contentment  in  which  we  feel  secure 


EPICURUS  139 

against  the  storms  of  life.  The  pleasures  of  the  mind 
are  preferable  to  voluptuousness,  for  they  endure ;  while 
sensations  vanish  away  like  the  moment  which  procures 
them  for  us.  We  should  avoid  excess  in  everything,  lest 
it  engender  its  opposite,  the  permanent  pain  resulting  from 
exhaustion.  On  the  other  hand,  we  must  consider  such 
painful  feelings  as,  for  example,  painful  operations,  as  good, 
because  they  procure  health  and  pleasure.  Virtue  is  the 
tact  which  impels  the  wise  man  to  do  whatever  contributes 
to  liis  welfare,  and  makes  liim  avoid  the  contrary.  Virtue 
is  not  the  highest  good,  but  the  true  and  only  means  of 
realizino-  it.^ 

Owino-  to  its  simplicity,  its  anti-mystical  character,  and 
its  easy  application,  the  Epicui^ean  system  became  a  for- 
midable rival  of  Platonism,  Peripateticism,  and  Stoicism. 
Italy  received  it  with  especial  favor,  and  reckoned  among 
its  disciples,  the  poet  Lucretius,  who  wrote  the  De  rernm 
natura,  T.  Cassius,  L.  Torquatus,  T.  Pomponius  Atticus, 
Cgesar,  Horace,  and  Pliny  the  Younger.  During  the  reign 
of  the  Caesars,  Stoicism  was  represented  by  the  republican 
opposition,  wliile  Epicureanism  gathered  around  its  standard 
the  partisans  of  the  new  order  of  things,  who  were  fortu- 
nate in  being  able  to  realize  the  ideals  of  the  master  under 
the  auspices  of  a  great  and  peaceful  power.  Protected  as 
it  was  by  the  Emperors,^  the  school  destroyed  what  re- 
mained of  the  crumljling  edifice  of  polytheism,  and  at  the 
same  time  attacked  the  new  religion  and  the  supernatural 
Christian. 

1  Dioy.  L.,  X.,  1 10  :   OIk  ecrriv  ijflf'cof  (rjv  avev  rov  (/);ir)i't/xa)y   koX  AtaXcof 

2  A  Latin  aiul  Greek  inscription  recently  discovered  in  the  excava- 
tions of  the  Archa-olo^ical  Society  at  Athens  and  dating  from  the 
time  of  Hadrian,  wholly  confirms  what  we  already  know  as  to  the 
special  protection  accorded  to  the  school  of  Epicurus  by  the  Em- 
Ijerors.  Owing  to  this,  it  exerted  the  preponderating  influence  during 
the  first  centuries  of  our  era,  and  aroused  great  jealousy  among  the 


140  GREEK  nilLOSOPHY 

C.     Apotheosis  of  Will 
§  10.    Stoicism  1 

The  founder  of  the  Stoic  school,  Zeisto^  of  Citiiim  in 
Cyprus,  was  the  son  of  a  family  of  merchants  of  Phoenician 
origin.  Upon  losing  his  fortune  through  shipwreck,  he 
decided  to  indulge  his  taste  for  study.  He  was  alternately 
the  disciple  of  Crates,  the  Cynic,  of  Stilpo,  the  Megarian, 
and  of  the  Academicians,  Xenocrates  and  Pole  mo.  There- 
upon he  taught  philosophy  in  the  Iroa  toikiXtj  at  Athens. 
Convinced  of  the  rightness  of  suicide,  he  put  an  end  to 
his  life  about  2G0,  leaving  a  great  reputation  and  a  large 
number  of  disciples  behind.  The  school  was  continued  by 
Cleantlies,^  a  native  of  the  Troad,  the  supposed  author  of 
the  so-called  hymn  of  Cleanthes,*  and  after  the  voluntary 

Platonic,  Peripatetic,  and  Stoic  schools.  The  inscription  also  gives 
us  some  information,  at  least  indirectly,  concerning  matters  hitherto 
little  known,  as  for  example,  the  organization  of  the  school  during  the 
imperial  period,  its  mode  of  appointing  scholarchs,  etc. 

1  [Flitter  and  Preller,  pp.  .392  ff.  ;  Tiedemann,  System  der  stoischen 
Philosophie,  3  vols.  Leipsic,  1776;  TtELxaisson,  Essai  sur  le  stoicisme, 
Paris,  18.56 ;  Leferriere,  Me'moire  concernanl  Vinfluence  du  stoicisme  sur 
la  doctrine  des  j'ltrisconsidies  romains,  Paris,  1860  ;  Hirzel,  Untersuchun- 
gen  zu  Ciceros  Philonophie,  3  vols.,  Leipsic,  1877-83  (Part  II.,  pp.  1-.566, 
for  Stoics)  ;  Weygoldt,  Die  Philosophie  der  Stoa,  Leipsic,  1883  ;  Oge- 
reau,  Essai  sur  le  systhne  philosophique  des  Sloiciens,  Paris,  188.5 ;  Bon- 
hdfer,  Epiktet  und  die  Stoa,  Stuttgart,  1890 ;  and  Die  Ethilc  des 
Stoikers  Epiktet,  Stuttgart,  1894 ;  Schmekel,  Die  Philosophie  der  mil- 
tleren  Stoa,  Berlin,  1892;  Zahn,  Der  Stoiker  Epiktet,  2d  ed.,  Leipsic, 
1895;  Stein,  Die  Psycholorjie  der  Stoa,  2  vols.,  Berlin,  1886-88; 
F.  Susemihl,  Geschichte  der  Litteratur  in  der  Alexandrinerzeit,  2  vols., 
Leipsic,  1891-92.  — Tr.] 

2  Diog.  L.,  VII.  [Pearson,  Fragments  of  Zeno  and  Cleunthes,  Cam 
bridge,  1889]. 

3  Diog.  L.,VIL,  168  ff. 

*  Hymn  to  Jupiter  (Stobaeus,  Eel.,  I.,  p.  30), 


STOICISM  141 

death  of  the  latter,  by  Chiysippus  of  Tarsus  ^  (according 
to  others,  of  Soli)  in  Cilicia  (280-210),  in  whose  numerous 
polemical  -syriliiigs  against  the  Academy,  the  teachings  of 
the  school  received  their  final  form.^ 

In  order  to  form  a  correct  conception  of  Stoicism  we 
must  remember  (1)  that  it  is  not  merely  a  philosophy  and 
a  system  of  ethics,  but  a  religion  raised  upon  the  ruins  of 
popular  polytheism  ;  (2)  that  its  founder  and  its  most  ar- 
dent disciples  trace  their  origin  either  to  Semitic  Asia  or 
to  Roman  Italy;  (3)  that  it  is  not  the  work  of  a  single 
individual,  but  a  collection  of  doctrines  from  different 
sources  wliich  meet  in  one  and  the  same  channel  like  the 
tributaries  of  a  river.  Hence  its  conservatism  in  religion 
and  its  dogmatism  in  metaphysics.  Hence  also  its  prac- 
tical turn,  and,  finall}',  the  complex  and  wholly  eclectic 
nature  of  its  teachings. 

Like  Epicurus,  Zeno  and  the  Stoics  pursue  science  for 
tlie  sake  of  life ;  truth,  in  so  far  as  it  is  good  and  useful 
(to  i7nTt]8€iOP,  TO  (pcpeXifxov) ;  the  search  for  the  Jlrst  cause 
of  being,  in  order  to  discover  the  Jinal  goal  of  life  {ro 
Te\o<;).  AVisdom,  i.  e.,  theoretical  and  practical  virtue,  is 
the  goal.  Theoretical  virtue  consists  in  tliinlving  correctly 
(aperr]  XojiKrj)  and  in  having  correct  notions  of  the  nature 
of  tilings  {aperr]  ^vaLKrj) ;  but  practical  virtue,  which  con- 
sists in  right  living  and  in  acting  according  to  reason,  is 
the  highest  type  of  virtue,  the  goal  aimed  at  by  theoretical 
virtue,  which  is  but  a  means.  Whatever  does  not  tend  to 
make  us  better,  and  has  no  influence  on  our  impulses  and 
actions,  is  indifferent  or  bad.  Logic,  metaph3'Sics,  and  the 
sciences  have  no  raison  d'etre  except  in  so  far  as  they  are  of 
practical  value.  They  introduce  us  to  the  study  of  ethics, 
and  this  gives  them  their  importance  in  the  teachings  of 
the  school. 

1  Diog.  L.,  VIT.,  179  ff;  Cicero,  passim. 

a  Cicero,  DeJIn.,  IV.,  10,  50;  Diog.  L.,  VII.,  1  ;  Ogeroau,  op.  cil. 


142  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

Conformably  with  its  voluntaristic  and  anti-dualistic  ten- 
dencies, Stoicism  rejects  Plato's  separate  Idea,  even  more 
emphatically  tlian  Aristotle.  Ideas  or  iiniversals  have  no 
objective  existence ;  they  exist  neither  outside  of  things, 
as  Plato  teaches,  nor  in  things,  as  Aristotle  holds ;  they 
are  mere  abstractions  of  thought  {evvorj^iara),  to  which 
nothing  corresponds  in  reality.  Moreover,  tlie  soul  has 
no  innate  ideas ;  it  is  an  empty  tablet,  and  all  its  concepts 
come  to  it  from  without  {Ovpadev).  The  sensible  impres- 
sion (TU7ra)cri<?)  is,  according  to  Cleanthes,  like  an  impression 
made  upon  a  material  object,  like  the  mark  of  a  seal  upon 
wax.  Cln-ysippus  defines  it  as  a  modification  of  the  soul 
(eTepoicoai'i).  Sensation  (atadijai^)  is  the  common  source 
of  all  our  ideas  {(^avraaCai).  The  latter  are  divided  into 
four  categories,  according  as  they  express :  substantiality 
(vTroKeLfieva),  quality  (Troid),  mode  of  being  (ttco?  exovra), 
or  relation  (Trpo?  ri  ttw?  exovra).  An  idea  is  true  when  it 
is  an  exact  reproduction  of  its  object.  The  criterion  of  the 
truth  of  an  idea  is  its  clearness,  its  self-evidence  {c^avraaCat 
KaTakriTrTiKal).  There  are,  accorchngto  Zeno,  four  degrees 
of  knowledge :  presentation,  {^avTaaia),  assent  (a-uyKard- 
0€(n<i),  comprehension  {KaTdXr]-yln'i),  and  understanding 
{eTncrr-qixri).  In  order  to  illustrate  the  highest  degree  of 
knowledge,  which  the  philosopher  alone  attains,  Zeno, 
it  is  said,  used  to  place  his  left  hand  upon  his  clenched 
right.  Following  the  example  of  Aristotle,  the  Stoics 
regarded  grammar  and  rhetoric  as  integral  parts  of  logic. 
They  are  worthy  successors  of  the  great  logician  in  this 
field ;  indeed,  the  majority  of  our  technical  terms  in  gram- 
mar and  syntax  are  of  Stoic  origin. ^ 

1  For  the  Stoic  logic,  see  Diog.  L.,  VII.,  41  ff. ;  Cic,  Acad,  pr.,  II., 
47,  and  post,  I.,  11;  Sextus  Emp.,  Adv.  math.,  VIII.;  Stobaeus,  Ed. 
I.;  Simplicius,  In  Cafeg.,  f.  16b;  [Prantl,  Geschichte  der  Logik : 
Heinze,  Ziir  Erkenntniitslehre  der  Stoiker,  Leipsic,  1880  ;  Stein,  Die 
Erkenntnisstheorie  der  Stoiker,  vol.  II.  of  work  mentioned  above.  — 
Tk.]. 


STOICISM  143 

The  Stoic  metaphysic  is,  like  their  theory  of  knowledge, 
even  more  realistic  than  the  system  of  Aristotle.  It  is 
concrete  spiritualism  pure  and  simple.  Mind  and  body 
are  two  aspects  of  one  and  the  same  reality.  In  the  real 
being,  mind  is  the  active  element  {ro  ttoiovv)  ;  matter,  the 
passive  element  (ro  Trdaxov).  There  is  no  such  thing  as 
pure  spirit.  Whatever  Aristotle  may  think  of  liim,  God 
has  a  body,  and  the  world  constitutes  this  body.  The  uni- 
verse is  a  living  being  {^q)ov),  of  which  God  is  the  soul 
(yjrvxr]  rov  Koafxov),  the  governing  intelligence  (pov<i,  \6'yo<; 
Tov  7ravT6<i),  the  sovereign  law  (elfiapfievr],  avdjKi]),  the 
motive  principle,  the  animating  warmth  {irvev^ia  irvpoeihe';^ 
irvp  TeyviKOV^  irvp  voepov,  irvev/jia  StrjKov  Bi*  uXov  tov  Kocrfiou). 

The  Stoic  theology  is  a  kind  of  compromise  between  pan- 
theism and  theism.  God  is  identical  with  the  universe, 
but  this  universe  is  a  real  being,  a  living  God  who  has 
a  knowledge  of  things  (fou?),  who  governs  our  destinies 
(-rrpovoia),  who  loves  us  {(f)L\dv0 p(0'Tro<;),  and  desires  our 
good  (Ki]Se/xoviK6'?,  (0(fie\L/jb0';,  ev7rou]TiKO'i  dv6pai7roc<;),  with- 
out, liowever,  participating  in  human  passions.  The  Stoics 
ascribe  providential  love  to  the  Infinite  Being ;  hence  their 
teaching  cUffers  essentially  from  that  of  the  Peripatetics 
and  Epicureans  {ovk  addvarov  jjlovov  Kai  fiaKdpiov,  akXd  koI 
(fjiXdvOpcoirov).  Their  pantheism,  which  does  not  exclude  the 
notion  of  Providence,  is  essentially  religious.  They  have 
a  pious  respect  for  the  religious  forms  of  paganism ;  they 
grant  the  existence  of  gods  who  are  inferior  to  Jupiter, 
and  who  are  revealed  either  in  the  stars  or  in  tlie  forces 
of  nature  ;  but  they  declare  these  gods  to  be  mortal,  and 
ascribe  immortality  to  tlic  Supreme  Being  alone. ^ 

1  The  Stoics  of  the  different  periods  differ  widely  as  to  religion. 
The  ancient  Stoics  are  unenlightened  enough  to  combat  the  heliocen- 
tric system  in  the  name  of  religion,  while  the  Roman  Stoics  are  much 
more  lilx^ral,  hut  not  less  accommodating.  They  look  u])on  myths  as 
allegories,  the  hidden  meaning  of  which  must  be  unravelled.  Jui)iter 
is  the  soul,  but  the  intelligent  soul,  of  the  world. 


144  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

The  Stoic  system  of  physics  is  like  that  of  Heraclitus ;  it 
adopts  the  view  that  heat  is  the  principle  of  life,  the  theory 
of  the  periodical  conflagration  and  renewal  of  the  world, 
and  shows  what  an  important  part  the  struggle  for  ex- 
istence plays  in  nature.  Inasmuch  as  the  world  is  the  body 
of  the  Deity,  it  is  necessarily  a  perfect  organism  {rtXeiov 
aMfia},  and  immaculately  beautiful.  Conversely,  the  per- 
fection of  the  universe  proves  that  it  envelopes  an  infinite 
Intelligence,!  which  is  not,  it  is  true,  a  transcendent  prin- 
ciple, like  the  God  of  Aristotle,  who  moves  only  the  Empy- 
rean, but  an  omnipresent  being  like  the  human  soul,  which 
is  present  in  all  parts  of  the  body.  The  evil  in  the  world 
cannot  shake  the  Stoic's  faith  in  God ;  for  just  as  a  false 
note  may  contribute  to  the  general  harmony,  and  as,  in  a 
picture,  the  shadows  tend  to  relieve  the  light  and  the 
colors,  so,  too,  the  evil  contributes  to  the  realization  of  the 
good.  In  the  struggle  with  injustice,  cowardice,  and  in- 
temperance, justice,  courage,  and  moderation  shine  with  a 
brighter  light.  Instead  of  shaking  the  faith  of  the  Stoic  in 
Providence,  evil  confirms  it,  for  evil  adds  to  the  universal 
harmony.  The  details  alone  are  imperfect ;  the  whole  of 
things  is  supremely  perfect. 

Man  is  to  the  God-universe  what  the  spark  is  to  the 
flame,  the  drop  to  the  ocean.  Our  body  is  a  fragment 
of  universal  matter ;  our  soul,  a  warm  breath  emanating 
from  the  soul  of  the  world  {irvevfia  evOep/xov).  Since,  from 
the  Stoic  point  of  view,  reality  is  synonymous  with  cor- 
poreality, the  soul  too  is  matter.  If  it  were  not  so,  the 
reciprocal  action  between  it  and  the  body  would  be  incon- 
ceivable. The  incorporeal  cannot  act  upon  a  body.  The 
decomposition  of  the  body  does  not  necessarily  involve 
the  destruction  of  the  soul ;  and  even  if  there  be  no  here- 
after for  all  men,  the  soul  of  the  sage  at  least,  which  is 
more  vigorous  than  that  of  common  mortals,  survives  death. 
1  The  physico-theological  argument. 


STOICISM  145 

But  though  it  may  exist  beyond  the  grave,  say  for  cen- 
tui'ies,  even  the  pliilosopher's  soul  is  not  innnortal  in 
the  absolute  sense  ;  for  on  the  last  day  it  will,  like  every- 
tliing  else  in  the  world,  disappear  in  the  universal  con- 
flaoration  {eKTrvpwcn^).  Absolute  immortality  belongs  to 
God  alone.  The  fate  which  awaits  the  soul  is  not,  how- 
ever, a  destruction  of  its  substance  ;  it  will  return  to  the 
infinite  ocean  whence  it  came.^ 

The  Stoics  had  no  fixed  dogmas  concerning  theoretical 
questions  like  the  above  ;  one  might  believe  in  innnortality 
or  not,  without  ceasing  to  be  a  disciple  of  the  Stoa.^  What 
constituted  the  Stoic  and  united  all  the  members  of  the 
school  was  the  moral  idealism  which  had  been  taught  long 
before  the  times  of  Zeno  by  men  like  Socrates,  Plato,  and 
Antisthenes ;  and  their  motto  was  virtue  for  virtue's  sake. 
The  highest  good,  according  to  Stoicism,  is  to  practise  vir- 
tue for  its  own  sake,  to  do  your  duty  because  it  is  your 
duty;  everything  else,  health,  fortune,  honors,  pleasures, 
are  indifferent  {aSLd(j>opa),  and  even  bad,  when  they  are  the 
sole  object  of  your  strivings.  Virtue  alone  makes  us  happy, 
provided  we  seek  it  in  a  disinterested  manner.  It  does  not 
consist  merely  in  the  outward  performance  of  the  good  (to 
Ka6i]Kov),  but  in  an  habitual  disj)Osition  of  the  soul  (e^t?, 
KUTopdcofxa).  It  is  one ;  you  cannot  be  Adrtuous  in  one  re- 
spect and  vicious  in  another.  It  is  the  common  source  of 
what  we  call  the  virtues^  i.  e.,  wisdom  ((f)pov7](T:^),  courage 
(avSpia),  temperance  {a-ax^poavvri)^  and  justice  (ZLKaioavvjf). 
To  possess  one  of  these  cardinal  virtues  is  to  possess  them 

1  For  the  Stoic  metapliysics  and  physics,  see  Diog.  L.,  YII. ; 
Stobaeus,  Ed.  I.;  Cic,  De  nat.  deor.  ;  De  fato  :  Seneca,  Epislle  (id, 
etc.;  Plutarch,  De  Stoic.  Rep.,  41  ff.  [Cf.  also  vol.  I.  of  L.  Stein's 
work,  cited,  p.  140;  Sieheck,  (Intersurhunf/en,  cited  p.  .59;  M.  Iloinze, 
Die  Lehre  lom  Logos,  etc.,  Oldenburg,  187*2.  —  Tu.] 

*  Thus  the  sr-hool  of  Rhodes,  a  branch  of  tlie  Athouian  school, 
rejected  the  doctrine  of  final  conflagration. 

10 


146  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

all  in  principle ;  not  to  have  one  of  them  means  to  have 
none.  A  man  is  good  in  all  things  {crirovBalo';)  or  bad  in 
all  (4)avXo<i).  There  is  no  mean  between  virtue  and  vice 
{d/j,dpTr]fji,a).  Theoretically,  there  are  but  two  classes  of 
men,  the  good  and  the  bad,  although  in  reality  there  seem 
to  be  shades,  transitions,  and  compromises  between  good 
and  evil.  Happy  is  the  sage,  who,  versed  in  the  secrets  of 
nature,  knows  himself  and  others  ;  whom  this  knowledge 
frees  from  the  guardianship  of  men,  the  times,  social  preju- 
dices, and  the  laws  themselves,  in  so  far  as  they  are  the 
products  of  human  caprice  and  not  of  reason  {6pdo<;  X0709, 
Kotvo<i  X070?).  He  alone  is  truly  free  ;  he  has  overcome 
the  world  as  well  as  his  own  passions.  Nothing  can  affect 
him  nor  make  him  falter ;  neither  the  happenings  of  the 
world  nor  the  storms  in  liis  own  heart.  Let  come  what 
come  may,  he  is  resigned;  for  everything  is  decreed  by 
Nature  and  Fate  ;  and  Nature  and  Fate  are  synonymous 
with  Reason,  Providence,  and  good  Will.i  Hence,  the 
supreme  rule  which  he  observes  in  all  things  :  sequi  na- 
turam,  to  follow  nature,  that  is,  the  law  which  nature 
enjoins  upon  conscience,  and  which  is  identical  with  the 
law  that  governs  the  world  {uKoXovdcci  ry  cfivcrei,  Kara 
(^vaiv  ^rjv,  Kara  \6yov  ^rjv,  XoycKoyi   ^tjv). 

It  would  be  an  easy  task  to  point  out  the  contradictions 
in  the  theories  which  we  have  just  outlined,  to  contrast 
the  moral  idealism  of  the  Stoics  with  the  thorough-going 
realism  of  their  ontology.  But,  as  was  ^aid,  we  have  in 
Stoicism  not  the  system  of  a  single  individual  but  a  col- 

1  For  Stoic  ethics,  see  Diog.  L.,  VII.  ;  Stobaeus,  Eclog.  ethic.  IT.: 
Cicero,  Defn.  ;  TuscuL,  etc.  The  writings  of  the  later  Stoics,  Seneca, 
Epictetus-Arrianus,  Marcus  Aurelius,  etc.  [Ravaisson,  De  la  morale 
deti  Sloiciens,  Paris.  1850  ;  Fortlage,  Ueher  die  Gluckselif/leilslehre  der 
Stoiker  (in  Seeks  philosophische  Vortrdge,  Jena,  1867);  W.  T.  Jackson, 
Seneca  and  Kant,  1881  ;  Apejt,  Beitrdge  zur  Geschichte  der  griechischen 
PhilosopUe,  Leipsic,  1891.  —  Tr.] 


STOICISM  147 

lection  of  doctrines  advanced  by  one  and  the  same  sect, 
a  religion  for  the  educated  chisses,  who  desired  to  bring 
then-  "  new  faith  "  into  harmony  with  the  old,  a  kind  of 
union  between  virtue  and  the  polytheistic  Church,  embra- 
cing the  most  diverse  elements,  but  inspired  with  the  same 
ideals.  Pantetius  of  Rhodes  ^  and  Posidonius  of  Apamea,^ 
the  teacher  of  Cicero  and  Pompey,  introduced  the  teach- 
ings of  Stoicism  into  the  Roman  world.  Owingf  to  the 
close  affinity  existing  between  these  teachings  and  the 
Latin  and  Semitic  spirit,  the  Stoics  were  not  long  in  gain- 
ing adherents.  Those  especiall}^,  who,  on  the  decline  of 
the  Republic,  battled  unsuccessfully  against  the  growing 
despotism  of  the  Caesars,  men  like  Cicero,  Cato,  and 
Brutus,  found  in  tliis  philosophy  a  deep  source  of  encour- 
agement and  consolation.  To  Stoicism  we  owe  Cicero's 
Dc  finihus  honorum  et  malorum,  Seneca's  ^  Moral  Letters^  the 
noble  teachings  of  Epictetus  wliich  Flavins  Arrianus  pre- 
served in  his  Bncheiridion,  and  the  twelve  books  Ad  se 
ipsurii  of  the  Emperor  Marcus  Aurelius,  one  of  the  most 
admirable  products  of  ancient  ethics.  Nevertheless,  its 
influence  cannot  be  compared  with  that  of  Christianity.* 

1  Died  in  the  year  112  b.  c.  See  Suidas  ;  Cicero,  De  Jinibus ;  De 
officii^ ;  De  divinatione  :  De  legihus ;  Seneca,  Epistle  116 ;  Diog.  L.,  YII. 

-  Suidas  and  Diogenes  Laertins. 

3  The  theory  has  long  ago  been  abandoned  that  Seneca  and  the 
Apostle  St.  Paul  As-ere  on  terms  of  f^-iendship  with  each  other.  The 
Vjest  the  extreme  advocates  of  the  view  that  a  relationship  exists  be- 
tween Stoicism  and  Paulinism  can  do,  is  to  appeal  to  the  fact  that 
Chrysippus,  the  chief  founder  of  Stoicism,  and  the  Apostle  St.  Paul 
(who  was,  however,  educated  at  Jerusalem),  were  born  in  the  same 
province  and  perhaps  in  the  same  town. 

*  We  have  pointed  out  the  distiiigiiisliiug  oliaraotcristics  of  Stoi- 
cism and  Christianity  in  another  work  {De  rcconomie  du  salut.  Jjltude 
sur  les  rapports  du  dotjine  el  de  la  morale,  Strasburg,  18G3).  See  also, 
Dourif,  Du  stcicisme  et  du  christlanisme  consideWs  dans  leurs  rapports, 
leurs  differences,  et  V influence  respective  qu'Us  o'U  exercee  sur  les  7i>(rurs, 
I'arJH,  1K(;;{.  [Hryaut,  77.<?  Mutwd  Influence  of  Christianity  and  the 
Stoic  School,  I>oriil()ii,  IHOO  ;  Capes,  Stoicism,  Loudon,  18.S0.] 


148  GREEK  PIIILOSOrHY 

It  was  confined  to  the  world  of  letters  and  hardly  pene- 
trated the  masses.  Stoicism  has  nothing  to  make  it  pop- 
ular ;  it  pursues  the  paths  of  science  and  of  meditation ;  it, 
too,  shuns  "  the  vulgar  crowd  "  and  is  identified,  in  practice, 
with  Epicureanism.^ 

§  20.     Sceptical  Reaction.       Pyrrhonism  ^ 

Aristotle  was  both  a  zealous  theorist  and  an  earnest 
dogmatist.  Although  Zeno  and  Epicurus  cared  very  little 
for  abstract  science,  they  recognized  its  importance  for  life. 
According  to  the  Stoics,  who  differ  from  the  Cynics  in  this 
respect,  science  teaches  us  to  recognize  Providence  in 
nature  and  in  history,  to  respect  its  authority,  and  to  follow 

1  [For  Cicero  (edition  of  TForts-,  p.  7),  see  Krische,  Forschumjen ; 
Ilerbart,  Ueher  die  PJdlosophie  des  Cicero  (  Works,  vol.  XII.,  pp.  167- 
18-2) ;  Hirzel,  Untersuchungen  zu  Cicero's  pMlosopJtischen  Schriften, 
3  Parts,  Lriipsic,  1877-83;  Schmekel,  Die  Philosoplne  der  mitileren 
Stoa,  pp.  18-184  ;  H.  Duraud  de  Laiir,  Moucement  de  la  pensee  philosn- 
pliique  depuis  Ciceron  Juxqu'a  Tacite,  V  ersailles,  187-4  ;  for  Seneca 
(edition  of  Works,  p.  7)  see :  F.  Clir.  Baar,  Se7ieca  und  Paulus,  in  Drei 
Abliandlungen  zur  GescUchte  der  alien  Philosoplne,  ed.  by  Zeller,  1875  ; 
W.  Ribbeck,  L.  A.  Seneca  der  Philosoph,  etc.,  Hanover,  1887;  Light- 
foot,  St.  Paul's  Epistle  to  the  Phi/ippians,  4th  ed.,  London,  1878.  For 
Epictetus  :  ed.  of  the  £^iaTpif:iai  and  'Eyxetpi8iov  by  Schweighauser, 
Leipsic,  1799-1800 ;  Engl,  transl.  by  T.  W.  Higginson,  Boston,  1865 ; 
Bonhofer,  op.  cit.  For  Marcus  Aurelius  :  ed.  of  his  Ta  els  iavrov  by 
Stich,  Leipsic,  1882;  Eng.  tr.  by  G.  Long;  Zeller,  Marcus  Aurelius 
Antoninus,  in  Vortrdge  und  Ahhandlungen,  pp.  82-107  ;  E.  Renan, 
M.  Aurelius  et  la  Jin  du  monde  antique,  Paris,  1882;  Watson,  The  Life 
ofM.  Aurelius,  London,  1884.  — Tr.] 

2  Diog.  L.,  X.,  IX.;  Sextus  Emp.,  Hypol.  Pijrrh.,  L;  Ritter  and 
Preller,  pp.  367ff.  ;  [N.  Maccoll,  The  Greek  Sceptics,  London  and  Cam- 
bridge, 1869;  L.  Haas,  De  philosophorum  scepticorwn  successionihus, 
etc.,  Wiirzbnrg,  1875;  "Waddington,  Pyrrho  et  Pyrrhonisme,  Paris, 
1877;  Hirzel,  Untersuchungen  zu  Ciceros  philos.  Schriften  (op.  cit.); 
Natorp,  Forschungen  {op.  cit.y\ ;  V.  Brochard,  Les  sceptiques  Grecs, 
work  crowned  by  the  Academy  of  Moral  and  Political  Sciences,  Paris, 
1887;  [Sepp,  Pyrrhonische  Sludien,  Freising,  1893]. 


SCEPTICAL  REACTION.    TYRRHONISM  149 

its  inspirations  ;  according  to  the  Epicureans,  it  frees  us  from 
superstition  and  tlie  spiritualistic  prejudices  wliich  destroy 
our  happiness.  Both  schools  agree  that  there  is  a  criterion 
of  truth.  Peripatetic  dogmatism  is  opposed  by  the  scepti- 
cal reaction  which  had  been  inaugurated  by  Democritus 
and  Protagoras.  Pykeho  of  Elis,^  a  contemporary  of  Aris- 
totle and  a  friend  of  Alexander  the  Great,  represents  this 
movement.  He,  too,  like  the  Socratics  and  Epicurus  and 
Zeno,  his  younger  contemporaries,  desires  arapa^la ;  but 
he  does  not  believe  that  metaphysics  can  obtain  it  for  us. 
There  are,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  no  two  schools  of  philosophy 
that  agree  upon  the  essential  problems.  Hence,  instead  of 
procuring  peace,  the  source  of  ti'ue  happiness,  speculation 
brings  us  trouble  and  uncertainty,  and  involves  us  in  end- 
less contradictions.  It  is  useless,  because  it  causes  disputes 
without  end;  impossible,  because  we  can,  in  every  case, 
prove  both  the  affirmative  and  the  negative  side  QavriXoyia, 
avTi6ecn<i  rcov  Xojcov).  The  essence  of  things  is  incompre- 
hensiljle  {aKaToXr^irro'^).  Pyrrho's  sage  refrains  from  mak- 
ing dogmatic  statements  on  either  side;  he  suspends  his 
judgment  as  much  as  possible  (iire'x^eiv,  eTro;^^;),  and  be- 
wares against  taking  part  in  heated  discussions.  lie 
avoids  al)solute  negation  as  well  as  categorical  affirmation, 
and  therefore  differs  from  the  dogmatists,  who  al'firm 
knowledge,  and  the  Sophists,  who  demonstrate  its  impos- 
sibility. 

The  physician  Temon,^  an  admirer  and  friend  of  P3a-rho 
of  Elis,  puljlished,  among  other  sceptical  writings,  a  satir- 
ical poem  (Ot  StXXot),  in  which  he  emj)hasizes  the  contra- 
dictions of  the  metaphysicians  from  Thales  to  the  Acad- 
emician Arcesilaus.  Eusebius  lias  preserved  the  fragments 
of  this  work  in  liis  Prccparatiu  evaiKjclica.     His  doctrine 

^   I'.orii  aliuut  ;J<I."). 

2  Miill.'icli,  Timonis  Pliliasii  frngmctilti,  1.,  ]i]).  s:'  ft',;  AVaclisiiiulh, 
De  Tiinone  Plilias'w  ccEtv risque  s'dloijniiihis  G'nicis,  Leipsic,  IbOU. 


150  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

maybe  summarized  in  three  paragraphs:  (1)  The  dogmatic 
philosophers  cannot  prove  their  starting-point,  which  there- 
fore is  merely  hypothetical';  (2)  it  is  impossible  to  have  an 
objective  knowledge  of  things  :  we  know  how  they  affect 
us,  we  shall  never  know  what  they  are  apart  from  our 
intelligence  and  our  senses;  (3)  hence,  in  order  to  be 
happy,  we  must  abandon  barren  speculations,  and  unre- 
servedly obey  the  law  of  nature. 

Pyrrhonism  reminded  the  philosophers,  in  a  pointed  way, 
that  the  problem  of  certitude  is  a  fundamental  one.  In 
consequence  of  the  rivalry  existing  between  the  Academy 
and  the  younger  dogmatic  Stoic  school,  the  sceptics  soon 
found  themselves  established  in  the  chair  of  Plato.  The 
first  appearance  of  the  critical  problem  inaugurated  the  age 
of  reason  in  Greece,  its  reappearance  after  the  death  of 
Aristotle  marks  the  period  of  decline  in  Hellenic  philos- 
ophy. 

§  21.     Academic  Scepticism 

The  scepticism  of  the  Academy  is  simply  an  exaggera- 
tion of  the  underlying  principle  of  this  school,  and,  in  a 
measure,  a  return  to  the  original  sources.  Scepticism,  as 
we  know,  formed  the  starting-point  of  Socrates  and  Plato. 
The  names  of  Arcesilaus  and  Carneades,  the  founders  of 
the  Middle  and  the  New  Academy,  are  connected  with  this 
movement.  Aecesilaus  of  Pitane,^  the  successor  of  the 
scholarch  Crates,  returns  to  the  Socratic  method.  He  does 
not  set  up  a  system  of  his  own,  but  contiiies  his  efforts 
to  developing  the  minds  of  his  hearers ;  he  teaches  them 
how  to  think  for  themselves,  to  investigate,  to  separate 
truth  from  error.  His  only  dogma  is  :  to  assume  nothing 
unconditionally.      He  was  at  first  a  critical  philosopher, 

1  In  Aeolia,  318-244:;  Sources  :  Diog.  L.,  IV.;  Sextus  Enip.,  Hyp. 
Pyrrh. ,  I. ;  Adv.  math.,  VII. ;  Hitter  and  PreUer,  pp.  4il  ff.  [See  also, 
Hii-zel  and  Sclimekel,  opera  citato.'] 


ACADEMIC  SCEPTICISM  151 

but  the  dogmatic  opposition  of  Zeno  cbove  liim  into  the 
arms  of  extreme  scepticism.  Zeno  makes  clear  ideas  Qcfyav- 
raaiai  KaraXijirriKai}  the  criterion  of  truth.  Arcesihius, 
however,  calls  attention  to  the  many  illusions  in  which  the 
senses  mvolve  us.  Socrates  had  said :  One  thing  alone  I 
know,  and  that  is  that  I  know  notliing.  Arcesihius  exag- 
gerates his  scepticism  and  declares :  I  do  not  even  know 
that  with  certainty.  He  does  not,  however,  deduce  the 
final  consequences  of  his  principle.  Certainty  cannot  be 
reached  in  metaphysics,  but  it  is  possible  in  the  domain 
of  ethics,  in  which  he  agrees  with  the  Stoics.  But  his 
successors  are  logically  compelled  to  extend  their  scep- 
ticism to  ethics. 

The  most  consistent  among  them  is  CAEisrEADES,^  who 
differs  in  nothing  from  the  Sopliists  of  the  fifth  century.  He 
is  an  opponent  of  the  Stoics  in  ethics  and  religion  as  well 
as  in  ontology  and  criticism.  With  wonderful  dialectical 
skill  he  brings  out  the  contradictions  involved  in  the  Stoic 
theology.  The  God  of  the  Porch  is  the  soul  of  the  world ; 
like  the  soul,  he  possesses  feeling.  Now  a  sensation  is  a 
modification  (erepouwo-t?).  Hence  the  Stoic  God  may  be 
modified.  But  whatever  is  changeable  may  be  changed  for 
the  worse ;  it  can  perish  and  die.  Hence  the  God  of  the 
Stoics  is  not  eternal,  their  sensational  God  is  not  God. 
Moreover,  as  a  sensible  being  the  God  of  the  Stoa  is 
corporeal,  which  suffices  to  make  him  mutable.  If  God 
exists,  Carneades  goes  on  to  state,  he  is  either  a  finite  or 
an  infinite  being.  If  he  is  finite,  he  forms  a  2'><^'rt  of  the 
whole  of  things,  he  is  a  part  of  the  All  and  not  the 
complete,  total,  and  perfect  being.  If  he  is  infinite,  lie 
is   immutable,    immovable,    and    without   modification    or 

1  215-i:}0.  Sources:  Diog.  L.,  IV.;  Soxtus  Emp  ,  ^</f.  math., 
VII.  ;  Ritter  and  Prellcr,  pp.  Hi  ff.  ;  Victor  Ikochaid,  op.  cil.  ; 
Coii.stant  Martlia,  Le  philosnj>liti  Cnriicddf  {linue  den  Deux  Muiults, 
rol.  XXIX.).     [See  also  Iliizel  and  Schinckel.] 


152  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

sensation;  which  means  that  he  is  not  a  living  and  real 
beine'.  Hence,  God  cannot  be  conceived  either  as  a  finite 
or  an  infinite  being.  If  he  exists,  he  is  either  incorporeal 
or  corporeal.  If  he  has  no  body,  he  is  insensible ;  if  he 
has  a  body,  he  is  not  eternal.  God  is  virtuous  or  with- 
out virtue ;  and  what  is  a  virtuous  God  but  a  God  who 
recognizes  the  good  as  a  law  that  is  superior  to  his  will, 
i.  e.,  a  god  who  is  not  the  Supreme  Being?  And,  on  the 
other  hand,  would  not  a  god  without  virtue  be  inferior  to 
man  ?  The  notion  of  God  is  therefore  a  contradictory  one, 
however  you  may  conceive  it. 

Carneades  handles  the  conceptions  of  right,  duty,  and 
responsibility  in  the  same  way.  Upon  being  sent  to  Rome 
on  a  political  mission,  he  delivered  two  sensational  speeches, 
one  in  favor  of  justice  on  the  first  day,  another  against  it, 
the  next.  There  is  no  absolute  certitude  in  morals  any 
more  than  in  metaphysics.  In  the  absence  of  evidence,  we 
must  content  ourselves  Avith  probabilit}^  {to  indavov)  in 
theory  as  well  as  in  practice. 

Neo-Academic  scepticism  was  superseded  among  the 
scholarchs  who  succeeded  Carneades  by  a  somewhat  in- 
genious form  of  critical  eclecticism,  and  then  by  a  syn- 
cretism that  indiscriminately  combined  the  doctrines  of 
Plato,  Aristotle,  Zeno,  Epicurus,  and  Arcesilaus. 

§  22.  Sensationalistic  Scepticism. 
Idealistic  scepticism,  Avhich  traces  its  origin  to  the  Ele- 
atics,  was  opposed  by  sensationalistic  scepticism.  This  form 
of  scepticism,  which  had  been  taught  by  Protagoras,  Aris- 
tippus,  and  Timon,  was  continued  by  a  number  of  thinkers 
who  were  for  the  most  part  physicians.  The  invariable 
result  of  their  investigations  is  that  we  have  no  criterion 
of  truth,  no  knowledge  of  things-in-themselves.  Arcesi- 
laus and  Carneades  base  their  arguments  upon  dialectics 
and  the  inevitable  con  tradictions  involved  in  it ;  wliile  em- 


SENSATIONALISTIC  SCEPTICISM  153 

piristic  scepticism,  the  type  of  modern  positivism,  appeals 
also  to  a  series  of  physiological  and  experimental  facts.  In 
liis  eight  books  on  Pi/rrhonism,  valnable  fragments  of 
which  have  been  preserved  by  Sextus,^  one  of  these  donbt- 
ers,  ^ExESiDE:Mrs  of  Cnossns,^  develops  the  reasons  which 
intinenced  Pp-rho  and  induced  the  author  liimself  to  call 
in  question  the  possibility  of  certain  knowledge.  These 
reasons  (rpoiroL  i)  tottol  eiroxris:)  are  as  follows :  — 

(1)  The  differences  in  the  organization  of  sensible  be 
ino's,  and  the  resulting  different  and  sometimes  contradic- 
tory impressions  produced  by  the  same  objects.  All  things 
seem  yellow  to  a  man  suffering  from  the  jaundice.  Simi- 
larlv,  the  same  object  may  be  seen  in  different  colors  and 
in  different  proportions  by  each  particular  animal. 

(2)  The  differences  in  the  organization  of  human 
beings.  If  all  things  were  perceived  by  us  in  the  same 
way,  we  should  all  have  the  same  impressions,  the  same 
ideas,  the  same  emotions,  the  same  desires ;  which  is  not 
the  case. 

(3)  The  differences  in  the  different  senses  of  the  same 
individual.  The  same  object  may  produce  contrary  im- 
pressions upon  two  different  senses.  A  picture  may 
impress  the  eye  agreeably,  the  touch  disagreeably ;  a  bird 
may  please  the  sense  of  sight  and  have  an  unpleasant 
effect  upon  the  hearing.  Besides,  every  sensible  object 
appears  to  us  as  a  combination  of  diverse  elements:  an 
apple,  for  example,  is  smooth,  fragrant,  sweet,  yellow  or 
red.  Now,  there  are  two  possibilities.  The  fruit  in  ques- 
tion may  be  a  simple  object,  which  as  such  has  ncitlier 

1  Sext.  Emp.,  IIjip.  P'/rrh.,  I.,  Diog.  L.,  TX. ;  Kitter  and  Preller, 
pp.  481  ff.  ;  V.  Broclianl,  op.  nl. 

2  Born  in  Cnossu.s  in  Crete.  iEne.sidenm.s  (Ati>r]ai8r]fjL0i)  prol)al)ly 
lived  in  AU'xamlria  at  tlic  Ix'ginnins  of  the  Cliristian  era.  [See 
Sai.sset,  Le  Srrpticisme.  JEudsideme ,  Pascul,  Kant,  2d  ed.,  Paris,  18G7  ; 
>'atorp,  oji.  cit.  —  'l"n.]. 


154  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

smootnness  nor  sweetness  nor  color,  but  occasions  an 
impression  sui  generis  in  eacli  particular  sense  depend- 
ing upon  the  particular  nature  of  the  sense-oi'gan.  But  it 
is  also  possible  that  the  apple  is  quite  the  reverse  of 
simple ;  it  may  be  still  more  complex  than  it  appears  to 
us ;  possibly  it  contains  an  infinite  number  of  other  very 
essential  elements,  of  which  we  have  no  knowledge  what- 
ever, because  the  corresponding  senses  may  be  lacking. 

(4)  The  circumstances  in  wliich  the  sensible  subject  is 
placed  produce  infinite  differences  in  his  impressions. 
During  our  waking  states  things  appear  otherwise  than  in 
sleep ;  in  youth  they  affect  us  otherwise  than  in  old  age, 
in  health,  otherwise  than  in  sickness,  in  the  normal  state 
of  the  brain,  otherwise  than  in  drunkenness. 

(5)  The  uncertainty  of  knowledge  resulting  from  the 
position,  distance,  and  general  topical  relations  of  objects. 
A  vessel  seen  at  a  distance  seems  stationary ;  a  light  burn- 
ing in  broad  daylight  is  invisible ;  an  elephant  looks  enor- 
mous near  at  hand,  small  at  a  certain  distance ;  the  neck 
of  a  pigeon  changes  its  color  according  to  the  observer's 
point  of  vision.  Phenomena  are,  therefore,  always  deter- 
mined by  the  relative  position  of  the  object  and  its  distance  ; 
and  since  the  objects  which  we  observe  are  necessarily  in  a 
certain  position  and  at  a  certain  distance,  we  may,  indeed 
say  what  they  are  in  such  and  such  positions  and  at  such 
and  such  distances,  but  not  what  they  are  independently  of 
these  relations.  Experience  never  gives  us  anything  but 
I'elative  knowledge. 

(6)  No  sensation  is  pure ;  foreign  elements  coming 
either  from  the  external  world  or  from  ourselves  are  mixed 
with  each.  Sounds,  for  example,  are  different,  according 
as  the  air  is  dense  or  rare.  Spices  emit  a  stronger  odor  in 
a  room  and  when  it  is  warm  than  in  the  open  air  and  in 
the  cold.  Bodies  are  lighter  in  water  than  in  air.  We  must 
also  take  into  account  what  our  own  bodies  and  minds  add 


SENSATIONALISTIC   SCEPTICISM  155 

to  the  sensation.  We  must  note  the  influence  exercised  on 
sensation  by  the  eye,  its  tissues  and  its  humors :  an  object 
that  is  green  to  my  neighbor  seems  blue  to  me.  Finally, 
we  must  take  into  consideration  the  influence  of  our  un- 
derstantling,  tlie  changes  it  may  produce  in  the  data  fur- 
nished by  the  senses  in  order  to  convert  them  into  ideas 
and  notions. 

(7)  Qualities  differ  according  to  quantities.  The  horn 
of  a  goat  (the  whole)  is  black;  the  detached  fragments 
(the  parts)  are  whitish.  Wine  taken  in*  small  quantities 
has  a  strengthening  effect ;  taken  in  large  doses  it  weakens. 
Certain  poisons  are  fatal  when  taken  alone ;  in  mixture 
with  other  substances,  they  cure. 

(8)  We  perceive  only  phenomena  and  relations ;  we 
never  perceive  the  things  themselves.  We  know  what  they 
are  in  relation  to  other  things  and  ourselves ;  we  are 
absolutely  ignorant  of  what  they  are  in  relation  to  them- 
selves. 

(9)  A  final  and  one  of  the  strongest  reasons  for  doubt 
is  the  influence  of  liabit,  education,  and  social  and  religious 
environment.  We  are  accustomed  to  seeing  the  sun  and  are 
therefore  indifferent  to  it ;  comets,  hoAvever,  are  exceptional 
phenomena  and  consequently  produce  the  most  vivid  im- 
pressions in  us.  We  esteem  wliat  is  rare  ;  we  desjjise  the 
connnon  things,  although  the  latter  may  have  more  real 
value  than  the  former.  For  tlie  Jew  educated  in  the  wor- 
sliip  of  Jehovali,  Jupiter  is  l)ut  an  idol ;  for  the  Greek,  who 
has  been  taught  to  worsliip  Jui)iter,  Jehovah  is  the  false 
God.  Had  the  Jew  been  lH)ni  a  Greek,  and  the  Greek  de- 
scended from  the  race  of  A]>raham,  the  reverse  would 
be  true.  The  Jew  abstains  from  l)k)ody  sacrifices,  be- 
cause his  religion  commands  it;  the  (Jreck  has  no  scruples 
wliatever  against  ilic  piactice,  lu'causc  his  priests  find 
notliing  olijectionablc  therein.  DKfcreiit  couiitrics,  differ- 
ent cusUjuis  I     It  seems  as  though  we  shall  never  be  able 


156  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

to  say  what  God  is  in  himself  and  independently  of  human 
notions,  or  to  know  right  and  wrong  as  such  and  apart  from 
our  conceptions. 

The  same  philosopher  subjects  the  notion  of  causality  to 
a  critique  ^  the  essential  features  of  which  are  reproduced 
by  David  Hume.  The  causal  relation  is,  according  to 
YEnesideraus,  inconceivable  for  the  corporeal  as  well  as 
for  the  incorporeal  world.  Nor  can  it  exist  between 
bodies  and  minds.  The  efficient  cause  of  a  body  cannot 
be  a  body;  in  fact,  we  cannot  conceive  how  two  can  be 
derived  from  the  unit,  three  from  two,  and  so  on.  For 
the  same  reason,  the  eflicient  cause  cannot  be  an  imma- 
terial entity.  Besides,  an  immaterial  being  can  neither 
touch  matter  nor  be  touched  by  it,  neither  act  upon  it 
nor  be  acted  upon  by  it.  The  material  cannot  produce 
the  immaterial,  and  vice  versa,  since  the  effect  is  neces- 
sarily of  the  same  nature  as  the  cause ;  a  horse  never 
produces  a  man,  and  vice  versa.  Now,  with  regard  to 
objects  wliich  we  call  causes,  it  must  be  said  that  only 
bodies  and  immaterial  beings  exist.  Hence,  there  are 
no  causes  in  the  proper  sense  of  the  term. 

"We  reach  the  same  conclusion  in  reference  to  motion 
and  rest.  Rest  cannot  produce  motion,  nor  motion,  rest. 
Similarly,  rest  cannot  produce  rest,  nor  motion,  motion. 

The  cause  is  either  simultaneous  with,  or  antecedent  to, 
or  consequent  upon,  its  effect.  In  the  first  case,  the  effect 
may  be  the  cause,  and  the  cause  the  effect ;  in  the  second, 
there  is  no  effect  as  long  as  the  cause  acts,  and  there  is  no 
longer  an  acting  cause  as  soon  as  the  effect  is  produced. 
The  tliird  case  is  an  absurd  hypothesis. 

What  we  call  a  cause  must  act  by  itself  or  through  the 
mediation  of  something  else.  On  the  first  hypothesis  the 
cause  would  have  to  act  always  and  in  all  cases,  which  is 

1  Sextus  Emiiii'icus,  Adv.  malli.,  IX.,  220  ff. 


SENSATION ALISTIC  SCEPTICISM  157 

disproved  by  experience ;  on  tlie  second,  the  intermediate 
cause  may  be  the  cause  as  well  as  the  so-called  cause. 

The  supposed  cause  possesses  a  single  property  or  it  pos 
sesses  several.  In  the  former  case,  the  supposed  cause  must 
always  act  in  the  same  manner  under  all  circumstances ; 
wliich  is  not  true.  The  sun,  for  examjjle,  sometimes  burns, 
sometimes  warms  without  burning,  and  sometimes  illumi- 
nates the  object  without  burning  or  warming  it ;  it  hardens 
clay,  tans  the  skin,  and  reddens  fruits.  Hence  the  sun  has 
diverse  properties.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  we  cannot 
conceive  how  it  can  have  them,  because,  if  it  had  them,  it 
would  at  once  burn,  and  melt,  and  harden  everything. 

The  objection  that  the  effect  produced  by  it  depends  on 
the  nature  of  the  object  exposed  to  its  rays  makes  for  scep- 
ticism. It  is  equivalent  to  a  confession  that  the  hardened 
clay  and  the  melted  wax  are  as  much  causes  as  the  sun ; 
hence,  tliat  the  real  cause  is  the  contact  between  the  solar 
rays  and  the  object  acted  upon.  But  the  contact  is  exactly 
wliat  we  cannot  conceive.  For  it  is  either  indirect  or  im- 
mediate. If  indirect,  there  is  no  real  contact ;  if  direct, 
there  is  no  contact  either,  but  the  two  objects  are  united, 
fused,  identified. 

Passive  action  is  as  incomprehensible  as  efficient  action 
To  be  passive  or  to  suffer  means  to  be  diminished,  to  be 
deprived  of  being  in  a  certain  measure.  In  so  far  as  I  am 
passive,  I  am  non-existent.  Plence,  to  be  passive  means 
to  be  and  not  to  be  at  the  same  time ;  which  is  contrar 
dictory.  Furthermore,  the  idea  of  becoming  involves  an 
evident  contradiction ;  it  is  absurd  to  say  that  clay 
Iccomes  hard  or  wax  lecomcs  soft,  for  it  is  assuming  that 
clay  is  hard  and  soft,  or  wax  soft  and  hard,  at  the  same 
moment;  it  amounts  to  saying  that  what  is  not,  is,  and 
what  is,  is  not.  Jlence,  no  iK'Coming.  Hence,  also,  no 
causality.  Tlie  im])ossibility  of  causality  mt-ans  that  Ikj- 
coming  is  impossiljlc. 


158  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

Agrippa,  another  sceptic,  about  a  century  later  than 
^nesidemus,  also  emi^hasizes  the  relative  and  sul)jective 
character  of  our  conceptions,  the  discord  among  philo- 
sophers, their  predilection  for  theories,  their  reasonings 
in  a  circle,^  and  the  fact  that  the  syllogism  cannot  give 
us  certain  knowledge,  inasmuch  as  every  major  premise 
is  the  conclusion  of  a  preceding  syllogism,  and  so  on  ad 
infinitum  (j'cgressus  in  infinituni). 

The  last  and  boldest  of  the  Greek  sceptics  is  Sextus 
Ejmpiricus,  a  physician  of  vast  learning,  who  lived  at 
Alexandria  about  the  year  300  A.  d.,  and  of  whom  we 
have  two  valuable  works :  the  Fyrrlionic  Hyi^otyposes  and 
the  treatise  Against  the  Mathematicians.  He  turns  his  at- 
tention to  science,  which,  in  consequence  of  its  self-evident 
principles,  offers  a  final  refuge  to  dogmatism  and  meta- 
})hysics,  and  maintains  the  uncertainty,  not  only  of  gram- 
mar, rhetoric,  music,  astronomy,  and  the  philosophical 
sciences  proper,  but  also  of  arithmetic  and  geometry,  in 
which  he  discovers  the  fundamental  contradiction  that  the 
line  is  both  extended  and  composed  of  inextended  points. 
Hence  no  science  is  certain ;  everything  is  vague,  doubt- 
ful, and  contradictory,  both  in  theory  and  in  method ;  in 
mathematics  as  well  as  in  physics,  in  logic  as  well  as  in 
ethics.  True  scepticism,  like  Pyrrho's,  does  not  even  grant 
unconditionally  that  all  sciences  are  uncertain.  The  cate- 
gorical assertion  that  metaphysics  in  the  Peripatetic  sense, 
i.  e.,  knowledge  of  things-in-themselves,  is  impossible, 
stamps  one  as  a  dogmatist  and  metaphysician.  This  is, 
according  to  the  Pyrrhonians,  the  error  in  the  scepticism 
of  the  New  Academy,  which  is  but  a  negative  dogmatism. 
The  true  sceptic  refrains  from  making  any  absolute  judg- 
ment whatsoever.     His  perfect  neutrality  (eVox^')  enables 

1  The  Stoics,  for  exami)le.  proved  the  existence  of  God  by  the 
perfection  of  the  world,  and  the  perfection  of  the  world  by  the 
existence  of  God. 


THE  SCIENTIFIC  MOVEMENT  159 

him  to  realize,  if  not  a  state  of  absolute  apathy,  at  least 
that  repose  and  moral  equilibrium  QfierpoTrddeca^  in  which 
true  happiness  consists.  The  sceptic,  like  the  Stoic  and 
Epiciu'ean,  pursues  a  practical  end  above  ever3'thing-  else, 
but  the  way  to  reach  it  is  to  abstain  from  ontology.  His 
system  consists  in  not  having  a  system ;  and  should  the 
fancy  seize  him  to  advance  a  dogma,  it  would  be  to  doubt 
his  own  scepticism. 

But  by  doubting  its  own  conclusions,  radical  scepticism 
abdicated  in  favor  of  Academic  probabilism. 

§  23.     The  Scientific  Movement  * 

While  pliilosophy  was  degenerating  into  barren  scepti- 
cism, the  sciences,  wliich  had  one  by  one  cut  loose  from  the 
parent  science,  cro^ta,  made  wonderful  strides  in  the  Greek 
islands  of  the  Mediterranean  and  in  Egypt.  jNIathematics 
flourished  in  Eg}^3t  at  a  time  when  Greece  was  still  steeped 
in  barbarism.  Experimental  science,  it  is  true,  advanced 
but  very  slowly.  It  was,  like  pliilosophy,  paralyzed  by  the 
insane  delusion  that  the  senses  are  deceptive  and  that  rea- 
son is  incapable  of  rectifying  them.  Besides,  the  natural 
impatience  of  the  Greeks  inclined  them  to  reasoning  and 
a  i^riori  speculation  rather  than  to  the  detailed  and  pains- 
taking labor  involved  in  observation  and  experience.  But 
the  sciences  in  which  reasoning  plays  the  chief  part,  mathe- 
matics and  mathematical  physics,  the  exact  sciences,  in  a 
word,  made  rapid  strides.  Tliey  alone  escaped  the  destroy- 
ing touch  of  universal  scepticism.  In  si)ite  of  the  attacks 
of  empiricism,  there  could  be  no  reasonable  doubt  of  the 

1  ^fontucla,  Ilbtoire  des  sciences  viatJu'mntiques,  especially  the  first 
two  vohirnf^s,  Paris,  17")8;  Delaiiil»r<!,  Ilktoire  tie  I'astrouomie,  7  vols., 
Paris,  1817-2;];  Draper-,  History  of  the  Intellecttial  Developiinnt  in  Eu- 
rope, N<i\v  York,  18'i3  ;  Cliaslcs,  Aperfu  hisforiijue  sur  I'ariyine  et  le 
de'veloppemrnt  ties  nu'thmlis  en  f/i'omi'irie,  2(1  t-d.,  raris,  1875;  [Cantor, 
Geschichle  der  Muthfrndtit,  T.,  Leipsic,  188()]. 


160  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

truth  tliat  twice  two  are  four,  and  that  the  three  angles  of 
a  triangle  are  equal  to  two  right  angles. 

In  Sicily,  where  Pythagorean  traditions  had  been  per- 
petuated, Hicetas  and  Archimedes  of  Syracuse  taught  a 
system  of  astronomy  (as  early  as  the  third  century  B.  c.) 
tliat  closely  resembled  the  Copernican  system.  Archi- 
medes gave  to  physics  the  method  of  determining  specific 
weights,  invented  the  sun-glass  and  the  endless  screw, 
and  created  the  science  of  mechanics  by  his  theory  of  the 
lever.  At  the  same  time,  a  fellow-countryman  of  Pytha- 
goras, Aristarchus  of  Samos,  proposed  that  the  distance 
between  the  earth  and  the  sun  be  measured  by  the  dicho- 
tomy of  the  moon,  and,  what  is  more  important,  —  for 
this  method  has  proved  to  be  impracticable,  —  attempted 
to  substitute  for  the  geocentric  system  of  Aristotle  the 
hypothesis  that  the  earth  revolves  around  the  sun.  This 
theory  was  accepted  and  developed  by  Seleucus  of  Seleucia 
in  Babylonia,  but  stamped  as  impious  by  the  Stoics,  and 
rejected  by  Ptolemy  himself,  the  most  celebrated  if  not  the 
greatest  among  the  astronomers  of  Alexandria.  It  did  not 
succeed  in  supplanting  the  old  conception  until  the  dawn 
of  modern  times,  when  it  was  advanced  by  Copernicus, 
Kepler,  and  Galileo. 

On  the  opposite  shore  of  the  Mediterranean  arose  the  city 
of  Alexandria  wliich  was  founded  in  the  second  half  of 
the  fourth  century  by  the  conqueror  who  gave  it  his  name. 
Under  the  Ptolemies  this  became  the  educational  as  well 
as  commercial  centre  of  the  world.  Here  rather  than  at  the 
schools  of  Athens  are  to  be  found  the  legitimate  spiritual 
descendants  of  Plato  and  Aristotle.  Athens  had  banished 
the  king  of  science,  and  its  star  went  down  forever.  The 
spirit  of  the  Stagirite  descended  upon  his  pupil,  and  from 
Alexander  to  Ptolemy  and  his  successors.  The  Museum 
which  they  founded  in  the  new  capital  of  Egypt  was  a 
wonderful   institution.      Nothing   in   ancient   or   modern 


THE  SCIENTIFIC  MOVEMENT  161 

times  can  be  compared  to  tliis  attempt  to  organize  science. 
Here  scholars  from  every  nation  were  entertained  at  public 
expense ;  thousands  of  students  flocked  hither  from  all 
the  surrounding  countries.  Here  the  naturalists  found  a 
botanical  garden,  a  vast  zoological  collection,  and  an  ana- 
tomical building ;  the  astronomers,  an  observatory ;  the 
litterateurs,  grammarians,  and  pliilologists,  a  splendid  li- 
brary, which  contained,  during  the  fu'st  centuries  of  our 
era,  700,000  volumes.  Here  Euclid  wrote  (about  290)  his 
Elements  of  Geometry,  his  treatises  on  Harmomj,  Optics, 
and  Catoptrics  ;  here  Eratosthenes,  the  royal  librarian  under 
Ptolemy  Pliiladelphus,  pui-sued  his  remarkable  astronomi- 
cal, geographical,  and  historical  labors ;  here  ApoUonius  of 
Perga  published  his  treatises  on  Conic  Sections  ;  here  Arys- 
tillus  and  Timocharus  made  the  observations  wliich  led  to 
the  discovery  of  the  precession  of  the  equinoxes  by  the 
astronomer  Hipparchus ;  here  Ptolemy  wrote  the  Almagest 
(^fxeydXi]  avvra^a^,  which  remained  the  authoritative  sys- 
tem of  astronomy  until  the  time  of  Copernicus,  and  his 
Geography,  which  was  used  in  the  schools  of  Europe  for 
fourteen  centuries.  Ever  since  this  epoch,  the  conceptions 
of  the  sphericity  of  the  earth,  its  poles,  its  axis,  the  equator, 
the  arctic  and  antarctic  circles,  tlic  equinoctial  j)oints,  tlie 
solstices,  the  inequality  of  climate  on  the  earth's  siu'face, 
have  been  current  notions  among  scientists.  The  mechan- 
ism of  the  lunar  phases  was  perfectly  understood,  and 
careful  though  not  wholly  successful  calculations  were 
made  of  intersidereal  distances. 

On  the  other  hand,  literature  and  art  flourished  under 
the  careful  protection  of  the  Court.  Literature  and  its 
history,  philology  and  criticism,  became  sciences.  Tlie 
Hebrew  Bibh.-  and  other  books  nf  Oriental  origin  were 
tiaiislated  into  Cireek.  Buddhists  and  Jews,  Greeks  and 
Egyptians,  mingled  together,  bringing  witli  llicin  tlie  most 
diverse  fonuM  of  religion.      These  conditions   led  to  tlio 

11 


162  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

development  of  comparative  theology,  on  the  one  hand, 
and  to  the  fusion  of  beliefs  or  a  kind  of  religious  eclec- 
ticism, on  the  other,  and  paved  the  way  for  Catholic  unity. 

§  24.     Eclecticism  ^ 

The  scientific  movement  of  Alexandria  was  suddenly 
checked  in  the  second  century  by  the  centi-alizing  power 
of  Rome.  From  that  time  on,  the  Greek  genius  showed 
unmistakable  signs  of  decay.  Literature  and  art  declined 
rapidly.  Pliilosophy  was  suffering  from  the  incurable  dis- 
ease of  scepticism.  Torn  from  its  native  soil,  it  went  to 
seed.  The  physical  sciences  remained  stationary  after  the 
days  of  Galen,  the  physician,  and  the  astronomer  Ptolemy. 
The  religion  of  the  fathers  became  an  object  of  scandal 
and  derision ;  wliile  ethics,  which  ought  to  have  taken  the 
place  of  religion,  wavered  between  the  trivialities  of  Epi- 
cureanism and  the  Utopias  of  the  Stoa;  the  nearer  it 
seemed  to  approach  its  ideal,  ataraxia,  the  more  the  latter 
seemed  to  elude  its  grasp.  In  this  state  of  senile  pros- 
tration, Greek  thought  looked  back  with  longing  to  the 
days  of  its  creative  force ;  it  cultivated  a  taste  for  history 
and  archeology,  in  a  word,  for  the  past.  Sceptical  even  of 
scepticism  and  yet  unable  to  produce  anything  original,  it 
became  eclectic  and  lived  on  its  memories.  The  ancient 
schools,  each  of  which  but  recently  possessed  a  separate 
principle,  a  distinguishing  characteristic,  and  an  indivi- 
duality of  its  own,  the  Academy,  the  Lyceum,  and  the 
Stoa,  after  a  struggle  of  three  centuries,  gradually  became 
reconciled  with  each  other  and  were  eventually  fused  into 
a  colorless  syncretism. 

It  was,  however,  not  impotence  alone  that  led  to  such 
a  fusion  of  elements.      As  long  as  Judaism  retained  its 

^  Soin-ces  :  Suidas,  the  Treatises  of  Philo  the  Jew,  Plutarch,  and 
Apuleius ;  Eusebius,  Prcej).  evangelica,  XI.,  XV.,  etc. 


ECLECTICISM  163 

national  and  exclusive  form,  it  proved  ineffective.  But 
when  Philo  of  Alexandria  ^  attempted  to  reconcile  the 
teacliings  of  Moses  and  Plato,  and  Jesus  and  liis  apostle, 
Paul  of  Tarsus,  divested  Judaism  of  its  national  garb, 
there  was  no  further  obstacle  to  its  progress  in  the  Grseco- 
Roman  world.  Public  opinion  had  long  ago  inclined 
towards  monotheism.  Peripateticism  and  lloman  Stoicism 
boldly  advanced  it,  but  their  teachings  reached  the  edu- 
cated classes  alone.  Christianity  was  a  religion  in  the 
true  sense  of  the  term.  Eminently  popular,  it  showed 
a  preference  for  the  uncultured,  the  poor,  and  the  lowly, 
for  all  sucli  as  desired  the  coming  of  a  better  world  (/Sacn- 
Xeta  Tou  6eov).  Hence  it  became  a  formidable  adversary, 
before  whom  it  was  necessary  to  close  the  ranks  and  firmly 
reunite  the  disjecta  membra  of  ancient  pliilosoi^hy. 

Pythagoras  and  Plato  were  invoked  against  Biblical  reve- 
lation ;  the  God  of  Xenophanes,  Socrates,  and  Aristotle, 
against  the  God  of  the  Jews  and  the  Christians.  The  Stoic 
example  was  followed,  and  the  attempt  made  to  reconcile 
traditional  polytheism  with  monotheism  by  means  of  the 

^  A  Jewish  theologian,  a  contemporary  of  Jesus.  Many  of  his 
writings  are  still  extant;  the  majority  of  them  are  commentaries  on 
the  Old  Testament.  In  order  to  reconcile  Scripture  with  the  philo- 
sophy of  his  century  he  had  recourse  to  allegory,  like  the  Stoics.  His 
theory  of  the  Xoyof  (the  Word,  as  the  revelation  of  God,  tlie  Son  of 
God,  the  second  God)  has  passed  into  Christianity  (The  Gospel  ac- 
cording to  St.  John,  chap.  I.).  Philonis  Judcei  opera  omnia,  ed.  llieliter, 
4  vols.,  Leipsic,  1828-30;  [P.  AVendland,  Neuentdeckte  Fraijmente 
Philos,  Berlin,  1891;  (Jfrbrer,  Philon  und  die  alexandrinische  Theo- 
sophie,  Stuttgart,  1831,  2d  ed.,  1835;  Diiline,  Gescliichtliche  Darstellung 
der  jUdisch-alexandriuischen  Religionxphilosophie,  Ilalle,  1831 ;  AVolff, 
Die  pJiilonische  Philomphie,  2d  ed.,  Gothenl)urg,  1858 ;  lldvillo,  Le 
logos  d'apres  Philon  d'AlexandrJe,  (Jencva,  1877;  M.  Ilcinze,  Die  Lehre 
vom  Logos,  etc.,  Oldenhmg,  1872:  James  1h-\unmon(\,  Philo-Judfeus, 
etc.,  London,  1888;  Schurer,  Geschichle  dcs  Jiidischen  Volks  imZeitulter 
Jesu  Christi,  2d  ed. ;  Kng.  trans.  History  of  the  Jewish  People,  etc.,  5 
vols.,  Xew  York,  1891.  — Tit.]. 


164  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

pantheistic  conception  of  a  supreme  and  unique  principle, 
embod3dng  itself  in  a  number  of  secondary  divinities. 
This  conception  passed  into  monotheism  and  found  expres- 
sion in  the  eons  of  the  Clnistian  Gnostics,  the  sephiroth  of 
the  Jewish  cahalists,  and  the  hypostases  of  Catholic  the- 
ology. In  conformity  with  the  Greek  spirit  and  in  oppo- 
sition to  Christian  tendencies,  the  times  continued  to 
identify  the  beautiful  and  the  good,  the  ugly  and  the  bad, 
metaphysical  evil  and  moral  evil.  Good  was  ascribed  to 
spirit,  the  formal  or  ideal  principle,  evil  to  matter  strug- 
gling against  the  dominion  of  the  Idea.  Some  conceived 
God  as  a  neutral  principle,  superior  both  to  mind  and  mat- 
ter, and  yet  the  cause  of  both  ;  others  identified  liim  with 
the  spiritual  or  ideal  principle,  meaning  thereby  not  the 
unity  of  contraries  but  the  antithesis  of  matter.  Hence- 
forth matter  is  not  his  product  or  creation,  but  a  rival  prin- 
ciple co-eternal  with  him  and  equal  in  power.  Here  we 
have  a  more  or  less  pronounced  dualism,  whicli  exercises 
an  influence  on  its  adversaries  and  is  reflected  in  the 
gnostic  heresies.  If  God  alone,  it  is  held,  is  without  sin, 
it  is  because  he  alone  is  -without  matter ;  and  if  matter  is 
the  soui'ce  of  evil,  then  every  corporeal  being  is  sinful. 
Hence  follow  the  necessity  of  sin  and  the  obligation  on 
part  of  the  sage  to  mortify  the  body  by  ascetic  practices 
and  abstinences.  The  Christian  belief  in  the  resurrection 
of  the  flesh  is  opposed  by  the  Platonic  dogma  of  the  im- 
mortality of  the  soul  apart  from  the  bod}^ ;  creation  ex 
niJiilo,  by  the  conception  of  the  pre-existence  of  souls  and 
the  eternity  of  matter. 

Nevertheless,  the  greatest  concessions  were  made  to  the 
enemy.  Provided  he  consented  to  place  Orpheus,  Pytha- 
goras, and  Plato  in  the  same  category  with  Moses,  Isaiah, 
and  St.  Paul,  and  recognized  the  thinkers  of  ancient  Greece 
as  the  organs  of  the  eternal  X0709,  lie  was  oifered  the  hand 
of  friendship.     All  religions  were  held  to  be  akin  to  each 


ECLECTICISM  165 

other,  and  conceived  as  products  of  a  primitive  revelation 
moditied  in  various  ways  by  differences  in  nationality. 
The  most  liberal  thinkers,  men  like  Moderatus,  Nicoma- 
chus,  and  Numenius,  loved  to  call  Moses  the  Jewish 
Plato,  and  Plato  the  Attic  Moses  (Mojua-?}?  cittikc^oov). 
But  with  the  exception  of  a  few  Cluistian  doctors,  most 
of  the  adversaries  rejected  the  compromise  offered  by 
eclecticism.  Although  disposed  to  recognize  the  scat- 
tered truths  in  Plato,  they  called  in  question  Plato's 
originality  and  alleged  that  he  had  di'awn  them  from 
the  Bible. 

Greek  pliilosophy  found  itself  obliged  to  change  its  old 
methods  of  controversy  in  dealing  with  the  arguments  of 
Chi'istianity.  With  the  exception  of  a  few  Fathers  of  the 
Church,  who  were  as  tolerant  as  they  were  learned,  the 
Christians,  following  the  example  of  Judaism,  recognized 
no  other  pliilosophy  than  Biblical  exegesis,  no  other  cri- 
terion of  the  truth  of  a  doctrme  than  its  agreement  with 
revelation,  as  set  forth  in  Scri^^ture.  Hence  it  was  neces- 
sar}^  to  apj^eal  to  the  texts  or  to  lower  one's  colors  to  Chris- 
tianity ;  arguments  drawn  from  pure  reason  and  discussions 
not  based  on  the  texts  were  no  longer  accepted.  Hence  also 
tlie  unusual  ardor  with  wliich  the  philosophers  of  tlie  peiiod 
studied  the  texts  of  their  predecessors,  particularly  those  of 
Plato  and  Aristotle.  Indeed,  their  enthusiasm  degenerated 
into  a  veritable  fetichism  of  the  letter,  Avhich  proved  to  be 
no  less  extreme  than  the  letterworship  of  their  adversaries.^ 
The  writings  of  the  great  Attic  pliilosophers  became  a  kind 
of  Bible,  a  kind  of  supernatural  revelation,  in  contents  as 
well  as  in  form.  They  were  regarded  as  inimitable  master- 
pieces and  so  greatly  admired  that  every  phrase  and  eveiy 
word  was  considered  insj)irod.      'J'lie    pliilologists,  gram- 

1  Tlie  genuine  ■writings  of  the  ancient  jdiilosuiiliers  ditl  not  suffice, 
hence  the  Orphicx,  tlie  Books  nf  Hermes,  tha  Clialilean  Oracles,  etc  ,  were 
manufactured.     This  is  the  golden  age  of  apocryphal  literature. 


166  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

marians,  and  critics  vied  with  each  other  in  their  efforts 
to  analyze,  purify,  establish,  and  explain  the  texts.  They 
loved  to  imitate  not  only  the  mode  of  thought  but  the  style 
of  Plato  ;  indeed  these  form-loving  Greeks  valued  the  lat- 
ter almost  as  highly  as  the  contents.  Alcinous  and  Atticus 
wrote  commentaries  on  Plato ;  Alexander  of  Aphrodisias 
—  to  mention  only  the  most  distinguished  among  the  com- 
mentators —  devoted  his  learning  and  ingenuity  to  the 
interpretation  of  Aristotle. 

Among  some,  literalism  gave  rise  to  the  strangest  super- 
stitions. Plutarch  ^  of  Chseronea  and  Apuleius,^  mistaldng 
the  form  for  the  contents,  the  allegorical  meaning  for  the 
real  meaning,  looked  upon  Plato  as  an  apostle  of  the  most 
vulgar  polytheism.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  Ammonius 
Saccas,  the  founder  (though  otherwise  little  kno\vn)  of  the 
Neo-Platonic  school  of  Alexandria,^  Longinus,  the  sup- 
posed author  of  the  treatise  On  the  Sicblime^  Erennius,  the 
successor  of  Ammonius,  and  above  all  Plotinus  of  Lyco- 
polis,  penetrated  more  deeply  into  the  spirit  of  the  illus- 
trious Athenian  and  gave  liis  conceptions  the  systematic 
and  definitive  form  which  they  had  hitherto  lacked.  In 
Neo-Platonism  and  particularly  in  the  pliilosophy  of  Ploti- 
nus, the  Greek  mind  seems  to  make  a  final  serious  attempt 
to  formulate  the  result  of  ten  centuries  of  reflection  and  to 
express  its  final  convictions  concerning  God,  the  world, 
and  the  human  soul. 

1  [See  p.  7,  note ;  Ritter  and  Preller,  pp.  507  ft. ;  transl.  of  Morals, 
ed.  by  Goodwin,  5  vols.,  Boston,  1870;  R.  Volkmann,  Leben,  Schriflen 
unci  Philosophie  des  Plutarch,  2  pts.,  Berlin,  1872.]  —  Tr. 

2  [  Works,  ed.  by  Goldbacher,  Vienna,  1876.  See  Prantl,  Geschichte 
der  Locjik,  I.,  pp.  578-591.  —  Tr.] 

3  [Ritter  and  Preller,  -pV-  ^^'^  ^-  '■>  flatter,  Sur  Vecole  d'AIexandrie, 
Paris,  1820,  2d  ed.,  1840-48];  Jules  Simon,  Histoire  de  I'ecole  d'AIex- 
andrie, 2  vols.,  1844-1845  ;  Vacherot,  Histoire  critique  de  Vecole  d'AIex- 
andrie, 3  vols.     Paris,  1846-51. 


FLOTINUS   AND  NEO-PLATONISM  167 

§  25.     Plotinus  and  Neo-Platonism 

Plotinus  1  of  Lycopolis  in  Egypt,  a  clisciple  of  Ammo- 
nius  Saccas  of  Alexandria,  came  to  Rome  about  244,  and 
taught  pliilosophy  for  twenty-five  years.  The  school  which 
he  foiuided  in  that  city  included  men  from  every  country 
and  every  station  in  life  :  physicians,  rhetoricians,  poets, 
senators,  nay,  even  an  emperor  and  an  empress,  Gallienus 
and  Salonina.  It  became  the  centre  of  what  remained  of 
Pagan  pliilosoj^hy,  science,  and  literature.  Countless  com- 
mentaries were  written  on  the  Attic  pliilosophers  ;  they 
were  even  worshipped  as  Jesus,  the  apostles,  and  the 
martyrs  were  worshipped  by  the  Christian  community, 
which  had  in  the  meanwhile  become  large  and  influential. 
Plotinus,  who  wrote  nothing  until  he  was  fifty  years  old, 
left  fifty -four  treatises  at  the  time  of  his  death  (270). 
These  liis  disciple  Porphyry  published  in  six  Enneads  or 
series  of  nine  writings  each. 

The  fundamental  conception  of  tliis  important  work  is 
emanatistic  pantheism.  It  looks  U2:ton  the  world  as  an 
overflow^  as  a  diffusion  of  the  divine  life,  and  upon  its 
re-ahsorption  in  God  as  the  final  goal  of  existence.  The 
stages  in  the  overflow  are  :  spirituality,  animality,  and  cor- 
poreality ;  of  re-absor2:)tion :  sensible  perception,  reasoning, 
mystical  intuition.  Let  us  consider,  with  the  author, 
(1)  tlie  principle,  and  (2)  the  three  stages  in  the  hierarchy 
of  beings. 

1  [Complete  odition  of  the  Works  of  Plotinus  with  the  Latin  trans- 
lation of  IVIarsilius  Ficinus,  pul)]ishecl  l)y  Wyltenbach,  ]\Ioser,  and 
Creuzer,  3  quarto  vols.,  Oxford,  1835 ;  by  Creuzer  and  Moser,  Paris, 
1855 ;  by  A.  Kirchhoff,  Leipsic,  185G.  Ritter  and  Preller,  pp.  517  ff. 
Engl,  transl.  of  parts  by  Th.  Taylor,  London,  1787,  1794,  1817; 
French  transl.  and  eoninicntary  by  Pouillct,  3  vols.,  Paris,  lS.")(i-0(). 
SeeC.  IL  Kircliner,  I>ie  P/il/osophie  drs  P/olin,  Halle,  1851  ;  A.  Kiclilcr, 
Npuplatojibrhr.  S/udirn,  5  pis.,  Malle,  lS(il— 07;  Ilarnaok,  Article  in 
E»ri/rlo/>e<H(i  Britannica,  on  Nio-Platonlxm;  Walter,  Geschtchte  der  Acs- 
Uielilc  in  Allr.rlhum,  pp.  730-780,]  —  Tu. 


168  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

I.  God.  —  Every  being  is  composed  of  matter  and  form, 
God  (the  One,  the  Form)  and  matter  (uX?;)  are  the  consti- 
tutive principles,  and,  as  it  were,  the  two  j^oles  of  the  uni- 
verse. God  is  the  Svva/xi'i  wliich  produces  everything,  the 
active  power;  matter,  the  8vm/xi<;  which  suffers  everything, 
becomes  everything,  and  is  infinitely  modified ;  it  is  the 
opposite  of  the  absolute  ivepyeia.  However,  though  mat- 
ter takes  on  form,  it  does  not,  according  to  Plotinus, 
constitute  an  absolute  antithesis;  there  is,  in  the  last 
analysis,  but  one  supreme  principle :  Form,  Unity,  or 
God. 

Divine  unity  is  not  a  numerical  unity.  The  unity  of 
number  presupposes  the  two,  the  three,  and  so  on,  while 
the  divine  unity  is  equal  to  infinity  and  contains  every- 
thing. It  is  not  divisible  like  the  numerical  unity  with  its 
endless  fractions ;  it  transcends  our  conception ;  it  is  the 
miracle  of  miracles.  It  produces  all  things  and  is  pro- 
duced by  none  ;  it  is  the  source  of  all  beauty,  without  being 
beautiful  itself,  the  source  of  all  form,  without  having 
any  form  itself,  the  source  of  all  thought  and  intelligence, 
without  being  a  thinking  and  intelligent  being  itself,  the 
principle,  the  measure,  and  tlie  end  of  all  things  (Travrav 
ixerpov  Kol  Trepa?),  without  itself  being  a  thing  in  the  proper 
sense  of  the  term.  It  is  pure  thought,  the  source  of  every 
concrete  thought,  the  pure  light  wliich  makes  us  see  all 
things,  and  which  consequently  we  do  not,  ordinaril}-,  dis- 
tinguish from  the  things  themselves  ;  it  is  the  principle 
of  goodness,  the  highest  good,  without  being  goocU  like  a 
creature  participating  in  goodness.  It  has  neither  good- 
ness nor  beauty  nor  intelligence,  but  is  goodness,  beauty, 
and  thought  itself.  To  attribute  inner  perception  to  God 
and  to  make  an  individual  being  of  him,  means  to  diminish 
liim.  Self-consciousness  has  value  for  us ;  it  would  have 
none  for  God.  What  is  obscure  seeks  for  light  by  means 
of  vision  ;  but  has  light  itself  any  need  of  sight  ?     Not  that 


PLOTINUS   AND  NEO-PLATONISM.  169 

the  Supreme  Being  is  unconscious  or  blind  like  a  stone 
or  plant ;  he  transcends  the  unconscious  as  well  as  the 
conscious ;  the  opposition  between  the  conscious  and  un- 
conscious does  not  exist  for  God.  Nor  has  he  a  will  in 
the  human  sense  of  the  term ;  he  does  not  strive  for  any 
good ;  he  does  not  desire  anything  but  liimself,  because 
there  is  nothing  desirable  outside  of  liim ;  he  is  peace,  rest, 
and  supreme  content.  He  is  neither  free,  as  souls  are,  nor 
determined,  like  bodies  ;  he  is  suj)erior  to  free-will,  which 
wavers  between  opposing  notions,  and  to  corporeal  beings, 
which  are  impelled  by  a  foreign  power.  Inasmuch  as  every 
quality  assigned  to  him  limits  him,  we  must  refrain  from 
giving  him  attributes  ;  he  is  both  everytlung  and  nothing 
imaginable.  To  attribute  or  to  give  to  him  any  tiling  what- 
ever, means  to  deprive  liim  of  it. 

Hence  Plotinus  is  obliged  to  confess  that  the  attributes 
which  he  himself  had  ascribed  to  God  (the  One,  the  Good, 
pure  Thought,  pure  Actuality)  are  inadequate.  All  we  can 
say  of  God  is  that  he  transcends  everything  that  can  be  con- 
ceived and  said.  Strictly  speaking,  we  cannot  even  affu-m 
that  he  exists^  for  he  transcends  existence  itself.  He  is  the 
highest  abstraction,  and  we  cannot  reach  him  except  by 
means  of  an  absolute  and  radical  abstraction.  We  cannot 
even  conceive  Ideas  without  abstracting  from  the  sensible 
data ;  noAV,  since  God  is  as  far  su})erior  to  Ideas  as  these 
are  to  sensible  things,  we  must,  iji  order  to  reach  God,  ab- 
stract from  all  Ideas.  After  thought  has  arrived  at  this 
heig]it,  it  must  push  away  tlie  ladder  which  helped  it  rise, 
and  abandon  itself  to  meditation  ;  it  becomes  contenq)lation 
or  adoration.  To  attcnipi  to  define  God  cither  in  thought 
or  in  language  means  to  lose  liiin. 

Plato's  God  is  superior  to  being,'  l)ut  not  to  the  Idea; 
he  is  the  king  of  Ideas  and  the  Idea  as  sucli ;  he  is  acces- 
sible to   reason.      Tlic   God  of  N(!o-I*lalonisiii   is  superior 

'   itrpuh.,  VI.,  '){)[). 


170  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

even  to  the  Idea,^  and  therefore  eludes  thonght  (eireKeLva 
vo7](Teco<i} .  Consequently,  there  is  an  undeniable  difference 
between  the  two  systems.  We  have  no  right,  however, 
to  exaggerate  this  difference  and  to  bring  Plotinus  the 
mystic  in  opposition  with  Plato  the  rationalist.  The  hu- 
man mind  can,  according  to  Plotinus,  be  united  with  the 
absolute,  only  after  it  has  performed  diligent  intellectual 
labor  and  has  previously  passed  tln-ough  all  the  interven- 
ing stages  between  vulgar  opinion  {86^a)  and  philosophical 
knowledge  Qyvoi(n<i).  Although  he  holds  that  thought 
cannot  penetrate  into  the  sanctuary,  he  considers  it  as  an 
indispensable  means  of  carrying  us  to  the  threshold  of  the 
temple  ;  and  though  he  discharges  liis  guide  upon  arriving 
at  the  goal,  it  is  not  because  he  disdains  him.  On  the 
other  hand,  as  we  have  seen,  Plato's  philosophy  contains 
all  the  elements  of  what  has  been  called  Alexandrian 
mysticism :  intellectual  love,  enthusiasm,  the  sage's  delight 
in  the  world  of  ideas  .^ 

The  universe  emanates  from  the  absolute  as  light  eman- 
ates from  the  sun  ;  as  heat,  from  fire ;  the  conclusion,  from 
the  axiom.  God  is  goochiess,  the  Father  who  desires  that 
all  things  should  exist.^  But  there  is  a  vague  or  conscious 
desire  in  all  things  that  emanate  from  him  to  return  to  him 
(eTncTrpo^rf).  Everything  is  attracted  to  him  and  desires 
to  approach  him.  Individuality  is  not  the  final  form  of 
existence ;  it  is  merely  the  passage  from  God,  the  principle 
of  things,  to  God,  their  ideal  goal ;  from  God,  the  infinite 
hvvajJLi'i^  to  God,  the  absolute  ivepjeia.     If  the  world  is  a 

^  Plotinus,  it  must  be  added,  is  not  ahvays  consistent.  Like  his 
modern  imitator,  Schelling,  he  regards  God,  sometimes  as  the  unity 
which  is  superior  to  all  contrasts  and  therefore  to  the  contrast  be- 
tween matter  and  mind,  sometimes  as  spirit  in  opposition  to  body. 
The  latter  conception  dominates  his  moral  system.  Asceticism  and 
the  nirvana  are  the  natural  consequences  of  the  view. 

2  Enneads,  I.,  8,  2 ;  III.,  9,  3  ;  V.,  3-5. 

8  Tiynmis,  29  E. 


PLOTmUS  AKD  KEO-PLATONISINI.  171 

system  of  harmony,  it  is  because  all  things  converge  toward 
the  same  absolute.  The  return  of  being  to  its  divine  source 
is  made  possible  through  thought,  contemplation,  intuition 
(Oecopla)^  which  alone  gives  the  soul  the  supreme  satisfac- 
tion which  it  demands.  To  perceive,  to  see,  to  contem- 
plate, is  the  goal  of  all  action,  of  all  striving,  of  all 
movement.  Each  man  seeks  for  the  absolute  in  his  own 
manner.  There  are  meditative  natures  and  practical  na-" 
tures ;  but  the  former  are,  according  to  Plotinus,  superior 
to  the  latter.  Both  aspire  to  the  same  goal.  The  former, 
however,  seek  to  reach  it  by  the  most  direct  way,  i.  e.,  by 
thought ;  the  latter,  by  endless  meanderings  ;  for  action  is 
an  aberration  of  thought  and  denotes  a  relative  weakness 
of  the  understanding  (aadeveLa  ^ew/Jia?).  Contemplation  is 
not  only  the  final  goal  of  life,  but  life  itself  (e/c  decopia^  koI 
Oecopia  icTTi^.  Animals,  plants,  nay,  everything  in  exist- 
ence are  endowed  Avith  perception.  Since  all  life  is  ulti- 
mately reduced  to  thought,  and  since  God  is  the  creator 
of  all  things,  we  may  say  with  Aristotle  (qualifying  the 
statement  as  above),  that  God  is  pure  thought,  having  no 
other  object  than  himself,  the  principle  of  intelligence,  or 
the  power  of  intuition  which  makes  us  see  all  things  with- 
out seeing  itself. 

II.  The  Three  Stages  of  Being.  1.  Intelligence. — 
Intelligence  is  the  first  divine  emanation  and  therefore  the 
greatest  thing  in  the  world  ;  the  succeeding  emanations 
are  more  and  more  imperfect.  Creation  is  a  fall,  a  pro- 
gressive degeneration  of  the  divine.  In  the  intelligence, 
tlie  absolute  unity  of  God  splits  up  into  intelligence  proper 
(voO?)  and  the  intelligible  world  (/cocryu.09  yo7;To<?),  subject 
and  object  (to  use  the  modern  expressions).  However,  the 
intelligence  is,  as  compared  to  bodies,  almost  an  absolute 
unity ;  at  any  rate,  the  intelligible  world  and  the  reason 
contemplating  it  are  not,  as  yet,  separated  either  in  time  or 
in  space  ;  tlie  voik  and  tlie  Kdafio<;  vo-qro'^  are  in  each  other. 


172  GKEEK  PHILOSOPHY 

The  Ideas  are  immanent  in  the  intellect  which  conceives 
them ;  the  intellect  is  inseparable  from  the  Ideas. 

The  passage  of  the  divine  unity  into  this  first  duality, 
the  how  of  the  emanation,  is  as  much  of  a  mystery  as  God 
himself.  Whatever  rational  explanation  might  be  given,  it 
Avould  still  be  insufficient.  If  the  dyad,  it  has  been  said, 
comes  from  the  monad,  then  the  latter  contains  the  former 
"  in  germ.  But  that  would  make  the  monad  a  dyad  and  not 
a  monad  in  the  absolute  sense.  Others  identify  the  One 
and  the  All.  But  if  God  is  only  the  sum  of  existing 
things,  then  he  is  a  mere  word  used  to  designate  the  result 
of  an  addition,  and  not  the  supremely  real  principle  from 
which  the  things  are  derived.  God  is  anterior  to  the  All 
(irpo  irdvTcov'),  in  dignity  if  not  in  time.  Still,  we  may 
call  Inm  ttuv,  in  so  far  as  he  is  the  essence  of  everything 
in  existence.  An  attempt  has  been  made  to  explain  ema- 
nation by  calling  it  a  partition  of  the  original  unity.  But 
the  divine  unity,  which  is  not  a  numerical  unity,  is  indivi- 
sible. It  has  been  compared  with  the  gleaming  of  a  bright 
body  (7re/)tXa/x-v/ri?),  with  the  radiation  of  the  sun,  with  a 
cup  that  eternally  overflows,  because  its  contents  are  in- 
finite and  cannot  be  held  in  it.  However  beautiful  these 
figures  may  be,  they  are  taken  from  the  material  world  and 
cannot  explain  the  immaterial.  Hence,  emanation  is  in 
reality  a  miracle  (daviJ^a),  like  God  himself. 

There  are  two  kinds  of  Ideas  ^ :  (1)  genera  (yepr]),  or 
general  forms  of  all  existing  things,  viz.,  being  (6V),  iden- 
tity (rauTOT?;?),  difference  (erepoTiT;),  rest  (o-tcio-k:),  motion 
(^Kivrja-i^'),  and  (2)  specific  types  of  individual  beings  {eiSr])} 
We  may  conceive  all  genera  as  modifications  of  the  only 
being,  and  all  specific  t}^es  as  comprehended  in  a  single 
being:  the  universal  Tj-pe,  or  the  Idea  of  the  universe 
(/coo-^09  vot]r6<i}.  Everything  that  exists  in  the  visible 
world  has  its  corresponding  Idea  or  prototype  in  the  in- 
1  Enneads,  XL,  1-3.  ^  i^,,  yi.,  o,  8. 


PLOTIXUS  AND  NEO-PLATONISM  173 

telligible  world.  Not  only  the  Idea  of  man,  but  Ideas  of 
Socrates,  Plato,  and  so  on,  exist ;  that  is  to  say,  there  are 
as  many  Ideas  as  individuals.  Each  one  of  us  realizes  a 
distinct  Idea.  Hence  the  Idea  is  not  the  species  resolving 
itself  into  a  number  of  passing  individuals  ;  it  is  the  in- 
chvidual  considered  as  eternal.  From  the  fact  that  there 
are  as  many  Ideas  as  individuals,  it  does  not  follow  that 
the  number  of  Ideas  is  unlimited.  Though  the  number  of 
existing  individuals  is  infuiite  for  our  imagination,  it  is  not 
actually  infinite  ;  if  it  were  so,  the  universe  would  not  be 
a  perfect  being,  i.  e.,  perfect  in  the  Greek  sense  (^wov  irav- 
reX&i').  So,  too,  a  fixed  and  unchangeable  number  of  Ideas 
or  types  of  individuals  exist  in  the  intelligence,  the  creation 
of  God. 

2.  The  Soul.  —  The  intelligence,  too,  is  creative,  like 
the  absolute  whence  it  emanates,  but  its  productive  power 
is  less.  Its  emanation  or  radiation  is  the  soul  Q^vxv^->^ 
which  is  like  the  yoO?  but  inferior  to  it.  The  fact  is, 
reason  finds  its  Ideas  in  itself ;  they  are  its  immanent 
possession  and  sul^stance,  while  the  soul  must  search  for 
them  or  ascend  to  them  liy  reflection  (Sidvoia).,  and  there- 
fore reaches,  not  the  Ideas  themselves,  but  tlieir  more  or 
less  adequate  images,  the  simple  notions  (\070t).  The  soul 
is  not,  like  the  intellect,  endowed  with  immediate  and 
complete  intuition  ;  it  is  restricted  to  discursive  thought, 
or  analysis. 

It  is  subordinate  to  the  intellect,  and  therefore  strives 
towards  it  as  reason  itself  strives  towards,  God.  Its  mis- 
sion is  to  become  wliat  the  intellect  is  a  priori ;  that  is, 
intelligent  {voepd).  Just  as  there  is  but  one  absolute,  one 
reason,  and  one  intelligible  woild,  sf)  there  is,  at  the  bottoni 
of  all  individual  souls,  but  one  single  soul  manifesting 
itself  in  infinitely  different  forms:  the  soul  of  1  lie  world 
{'^^XV  '^^^  Koafiov).  Ivike  tlie  vov'i,  mIucIi  contemplates 
*   Eiincwla,  \y. 


174  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

the  absolute  and  also  produces  tlie  ■yjrvxv-,  tlie  soul  has 
two  functions,  one  of  which  is  to  contemplate  and  look 
inward,  where  it  finds  the  Ideas  and  the  absolute,  while 
the  other  is  expansive  and  creative.  Its  emanation,  wliich 
is  less  perfect  than  itself,  is  the  body.-' 

3.  The  Bod//.  —  Though  the  body  is  far  removed  from  the 
source  of  all  things  (God  is  the  One,  the  body,  the  greatest 
plurality),  it  bears  the  stamp  of  the  absolute.  The  intel- 
lect has  its  Ideas ;  the  soul,  its  ^notions ;  the  body,  its 
forms.  Through  these  the  body  still  belongs  to  the  higher 
spheres  of  being :  they  are  to  the  body  what  perceptions 
are  to  the  soul,  what  Ideas  are  to  reason :  a  reflection  of 
the  absolute,  a  trace  of  the  divine.  The  form  of  bodies 
represents  what  reality  tliey  have ;  their  matter,  what 
they  lack  of  reality ;  their  form  is  their  being ;  their  mat- 
ter their  non-being.  Corporeal  nature  {(f>vai'i)  fluctuates 
between  being  and  non-being  ;  it  is  eternal  becoming,  and 
everything  in  it  is  in  perpetual  change. 

After  the  world  of  bodies  comes  pure  matter,  or  non 
being,  an  obscure  and  bottomless  abyss  {aireipov)^  as  it 
were,  into  which  the  ideal  world  projects  its  rays.  Mat- 
ter is  not  body,  for  every  body  is  composed  of  matter  and 
form  ;  it  is  but  the  substratum,  the  principle  of  its  inertia ; 
it  has  neither  form,  nor  dimension,  nor  color,  nor  anything 
that  characterizes  the  body;  all  these  qualities  proceed 
from  the  formal  principle,  the  absolute  ;  it  has  no  other 
attribute  than  privation  (o-Tep?;crt<?).  Since  all  force  and 
life  has  its  source  in  the  intellect  and  in  God,  matter  is 
impotence,  boundless  indigence,  the  negation  of  unity,  the 
cause  of  the  infinite  multitude  of  bodies,  incoherence,  dif- 
fusion, the  absolute  absence  of  form,  i.  e.,  ugliness  itself ; 
the  absence  of  the  good,  i.  e.,  evil  itself. ^  From  the  stand- 
point of  Plotinus  as  well  as  of  Hellenism  in  general,  unity, 
form,  intelligence,  beaiity,  and  goodness  are  synonymous 
1  Enneads,  III.  2  7^,^  n. 


PLOTINUS  AND  NEO-PLATONISM  175 

terms,  as  are  also,  on  the  other  liand,  pluralit}-,  matter, 
ugliness,  and  evil- 
It  must  not  be  understood  that  he  considers  matter  and 
evil  as  non-existent.  To  assume  that  he  denies  the  exist- 
ence of  matter  and  of  evil  would  be  equivalent  to  making 
liim  say  that  poverty  is  the  absence  of  wealth  and  there- 
fore nothing,  that  it  does  not  exist,  and,  consequently,  that 
charity  is  useless.  Matter  is  so  great  a  reality  that  its  in- 
fluence is  exercised,  not  only  upon  the  corporeal  sphere, 
but  also  upon  the  soul  and  upon  reason  itself.  We  have 
seen  that  the  body  still,  though  vaguely,  resembles  the 
mind,  because  of  the  form  which  it  assumes  and  wliich  is 
nothing  but  an  embodied  Idea.  Conversely,  we  shall  say, 
however  superior  the  mind  may  be  to  corporeal  nature,  it 
is  not  ahsolutely  immaterial.  Matter  exists  in  the  mind, 
though  in  another  form  than  in  nature  ;  i.  e.,  as  the  notion  of 
matter  (v\t]  voi^rrj),  intelligibly,  in  the  conceptual  state,  not 
corporeally.  But  more  than  that ;  not  only  is  matter  in  the 
mind  in  so  far  as  the  mind  conceives  it ;  it  is  mingled  with 
every  one  of  its  thoughts,  indissolubly  connected  with  all 
its  conceptions.  Without  matter,  the  mind  would  not  be 
distinct  from  the  absolute.  In  fact,  God  alone  is  unity 
in  the  absolute  sense ;  the  intellect  is  not  unity  in  the 
same  sense  ;  in  it  unity  expands  into  a  plurality  of  Ideas, 
which  are  cUstinct  from  one  another,  although  they  are 
perceived  by  one  and  the  same  intellectual  intuition.  It 
is  true,  the  Ideas  in  our  mind  are  not  separated  corporeally; 
but  it  is  also  certain  that  the  mind  contains  them  as  plurali- 
ties. Now,  matter  is  the  very  principle  of  plurality.  Hence 
it  lies  at  the  very  basis  of  the  intellect,  wliicli,  without  it, 
would  be  SAvallowed  uj)  in  the  absolute  unity  of  (iod. 

In  order  to  understand  this  paradox,  whicli  is  essentially 
Platonic,  it  must  be  remembered  that  the  matter  of  Plato, 
Aristotle,  and  Plotinus,  is  not  the  matter  of  the  material- 
ists,  l)nt   wliat    Scliclling  and    Schopcidiaucr    would   call 


176  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

will^  or  the  will-to-be  ;  it  is  not  body,  but  the  transcendent 
substratwn,  the  principle  of  corporeality,  that  which  makes 
the  body  a  body,  but  is  itself  an  incorporeal  thing  like  the 
mind.  It  even  transcends  the  intelligence  ;  it  rises  above 
it  like  an  impenetrable  mystery  that  defies  the  reason  even 
of  the  gods.  Moreover,  Plotinus  does  not  place  matter 
among  the  genera  ;  he  places  it  beyond  the  world  of  Ideas 
in  the  supra-intelligible  realm  which  reason  cannot  reach, 
although  we  may  recognize  the  Idea  of  matter  in  the  ideas 
of  otlicrncss  and  movement.  If  we  call  what  can  be  the 
object  of  intelligence,  what  the  intelligence  can  define, 
comprehend,  or  embrace  under  an  exact  formula,  "  intelli- 
gible," then  matter  is  evidently  not  intelligible ;  for  it  is 
the  opposite  of  form;  it  resists  all  limitation  and  conse- 
quently all  comprehension.  To  comprehend  matter  is  to 
see  darkness  ;  to  see  darkness  is  to  see  nothing ;  hence,  to 
comprehend  matter  is  to  comprehend  nothing. 

Is  matter  a  second  absolute  ?  One  is  sometimes  tempted 
to  regard  Plotinus  as  a  decided  dualist ;  his  system  of 
ethics,  especially,  lays  itself  open  to  the  charge  of  dual- 
ism. But  the  metaphysician  cannot  assume  two  absolutes. 
Plotinus,  therefore,  recalling  the  statement  of  Aristotle 
that  the  first  matter  and  the  first  form  are  identical,^  con- 
ceives the  supra-intelligent  matter,  or,  in  other  terms,  the 
first  cause  of  bodies,  as  identical  with  God.  Matter,  ^^'hich 
Platonism  loves  to  call  the  infinite,  is,  in  the  last  analysis, 
nothing  but  infinite  potentiality,  unlimited  productivity, 
the  creative  power  of  God.  The  highest  ivepyeia  is  also 
the  highest  Bvva/jii<;.  How  is  that  possible  ?  The  question 
is  the  same  as  the  one  raised  above :  How  can  plurality 
emanate  from  divine  unity  ?  How  can  we  explain  emana- 
tion, creation  ?     That  is  a  mystery. 

III.  Ethics.  —  The  soul,  which  is  intermediate  between 
the  intellect  and  the  body,  contains  elements  of  both,  and 
1  Metaphysics,  VTTT.,  6,  19. 


PLOTINUS   AND   NEO-PLATONIS.M  177 

is  an  epitome  of  the  universe.  It  is,  as  it  were,  the  meet- 
ing place  of  all  cosmical  powers.  Logical  necessity  reigns 
in  the  intellectual  sphere  ;  physical  necessity,  in  the  world 
of  bodies.  The  soul  is  the  seat  of  the  free  will.  It  is  sub- 
ject to  the  allurements  of  the  body  and  those  of  the  intel- 
lect. It  may  therefore  turn  towards  reason  and  live 
a  purely  intellectual  life,  but  it  may  also  turn  towards 
matter,  fall,  and  become  embodied  in  a  low  and  earthly 
body.^  Hence,  there  are  three  kinds  of  souls :  (1)  souls 
which  live  for  reason  and  for  God,  or  divine  souls  ;  (2)  souls 
which  waver  between  mind  and  body,  heaven  and  earth : 
demons,  or  geniuses  which  are  partly  good  and  partly  bad ; 
(3)  souls  which  dwell  in  matter  and  inhabit  base  bodies. 
The  heavenly  souls,  like  tlie  soul  of  the  world  itself,  are 
supremely  happy.  Their  happiness  consists  in  their  ap- 
athy^ in  their  obedience  to  divine  reason,  and  in  the  con- 
tem})lation  of  the  absolute.  Their  bodies  consist  wholly 
of  light,  and  have  nothing  material  in  them,  using  this 
term  in  the  sense  of  terrestrial?  Eternally  perfect  and 
always  the  same,  they  have  neither  memor}^  nor  prevision, 
neither  hope  nor  regret ;  for  only  such  beings  have  mem- 
ory and  hope  as  change  their  conditions,  be  it  for  better 
or  for  worse.  They  are  not  even,  like  the  human  soul, 
conscious  of  themselves ;  they  are  absorbed  in  the  con- 
templation of  Ideas  and  of  the  absolute.  It  is  this  un- 
consciousness, this  exclusive  apperception  of  divine  things, 
wliich  constitutes  their  supreme  liappiness. 

Human  souls  were  not  always  enclosed  in  base  bodies ; 
they  were  at  first  heavenly  souls,  conscious  of  God  alone 
and  not  of  themselves;  but  they  separated  their  lives  from 
the  universal  life,  in  order  to  become  selfish  individuals 
and  to  assume  vulgar  bodies,  which  isolate  tliem  from  each 
other.      The  assumption  of  an  earthly  body  is  a  fall  for 

1  Enneails,  IL,  3,  0;  TIL,  T),  6;  TV.,  :5,  8. 

2  Cf.  St.  Taul,  First  Letter  to  the  Corinthians,  XV.,  40. 

12 


178  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

which  the  miseries  of  our  present  existence  are  the  just 
punishment.!  It  was  a  free  act,  in  so  far  as  no  power  out- 
side of  us  forced  us  to  do  it ;  a  necessary  act,  in  so  far  as 
our  own  nature  determined  it.  Every  man  is  the  author 
of  his  fate,  and,  conversely,  his  fate  depends  upon  his  in- 
dividual character.  True,  we  choose  only  the  fate  wliich 
we  can  choose,  but  we  choose  this  simply  because  we  do 
not  desire  anything  else. 

Moreover  (and  here  we  note  a  difference  between  Neo- 
Platonism  and  modern  pessimism  in  favor  of  the  former), 
incarnation  is  but  a  relative  misfortune  and  even  a  bless- 
ing, provided  the  soul  descends  into  matter  merely  in  order 
to  transform  it,  and  ascends  heavenwards  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible. Nay,  the  soul  profits  by  its  contact  with  the  body, 
for  it  thereby  not  only  learns  to  recognize  evil  but  also 
to  exercise  its  hidden  powers,  to  produce  works  wliich  it 
would  otherwise  not  have  been  able  to  accomplish.  Fur- 
thermore, though  closely  connected  with  the  body,  it  re- 
mains separate  from  it.  This  is  proved  by  the  fact  that, 
instead  of  assisting  our  aspirations  towards  the  ideal  ^^^orld 
the  body  opposes  them,  and  that  the  philosopher  welcomes 
death.2  The  human  soul  is  like  the  Olympus  whose  sum- 
mit is  steeped  in  azure  while  its  sides  are  beaten  by  the 
storm  ;  it  is  not  confounded  with  the  body,  but  escapes  its 
bondage  by  means  of  the  intelligence,  its  better  part. 

The  ethical  system  of  Plotinus  reminds  us  of  Plato  and 
Stoicism.  The  end  of  human  life  is  the  purification  of  the 
soul  and  its  gradual  assimilation  with  the  di^'inity.  Three 
roads  lead  to  God:^  music  (art),  love,  and  philosophy; 
three  paths,  or  rather  a  single  one  with  three  stages.  The 
artist  seeks  for  the  Idea  in  its  sensil)le  manifestations  ;  the 
lover  seeks  for  it  in  the  human  soul ;    the  philosopher, 

1  Cf.  p.  46,  note  2. 

2  Cf.  St.  Paul,  Epistle  to  tie  Philippians,  I,  23. 
'  Enneatis,  T.,  B. 


PORPHYRY,  JAMBLICHUS,  PROCLUS        179 

finally,  seeks  for  it  in  the  sphere  in  wliich  it  dwells  without 
alloy,  —  in  the  intelligihle  world  and  in  God.  The  man  who 
has  tasted  the  delights  of  meditation  and  contemplation 
foregoes  both  art  and  love.  The  traveller  who  has  beheld 
and  admii-ed  a  royal  palace  forgets  the  beauty  of  the  apart- 
ments when  he  perceives  the  sovereign.  For  the  philoso- 
pher, beauty  in  art,  nay,  living  beauty  itself,  is  but  a  pale 
reflection  of  absolute  beaut}^  He  despises  the  body  and  its 
pleasures  in  order  to  concentrate  all  his  thoughts  upon  the 
only  thing  that  endures  forever.  The  joys  of  the  philoso- 
pher are  unspeakable.  These  joj'S  make  liim  forget,  not 
only  the  earth,  but  Ids  own  individuality ;  he  is  lost  in  the 
pure  intuition  of  the  absolute.  His  rapture  is  a  union 
(eWo-t?)  of  the  human  soul  Avith  the  cUvine  intellect,  an 
ecstasy,  a  flight  of  the  soul  to  its  heavenly  home.^  As 
long  as  he  lives  in  the  body,  the  pliilosopher  enjoys  this 
vision  of  God  only  for  certain  short  moments,  —  Plotinus 
had  four  such  transports,  —  but  what  is  the  exception  in 
this  life  will  be  the  rule  and  the  normal  state  of  the  soul 
in  the  life  to  come.  Death,  it  is  true,  is  not  a  direct  pas- 
sage to  a  state  of  perfection.  The  soul  which  is  purified 
by  philosophy  here  below,  continues  to  be  purified  beyond 
the  grave  until  it  is  divested  of  individuality  itself,  the 
last  vestige  of  its  eartlily  bondage .^ 


§  2G.     The  Last  Neo-Platonic  Polytheists.     Porphyry, 
Jamblichus,  Proclus 

1.  Ph)tiiius  Avas  succeeded  in  the  Neo-Platonic  school  at 
Rr)me  by  his  friend  Malchus  or  PnRPiTYrvY,^  a  native  Plire- 
nician,  who  publislied  the  Erinrnds.  Porphyry  is  still  more 
convinced  than  liis  master  of  the  identity  of  the  doctrines 
of  the  Academy  and  the  T,yceum.  Although  much  inferior 
to  Plotinus,  on  whom  his  teachings  essentially  dejx'nd,  he, 

»  Enneads,  V.,  5,  10.         «  Id.,  IV.,  3,  32.         »  Died  at  Roiuo,  301. 


180  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

nevertheless,  exercised  an  influence  on  the  progress  of  phi- 
losophy during  the  following  centuries,  because  of  the  clear- 
ness with  which  he  set  forth  the  problem  of  universals  in 
liis  Introduction  to  the  Oater/uries  of  Aristotle.^  Indeed,  the 
question  whether  genera  and  species  are  realities  apart 
from  the  thouglit  wliich  conceives  them,  forms  the  chief 
topic  of  interest  during  the  Middle  Ages. 

Neo-Platonism  changes  in  character  towards  the  end  of 
the  fourth  century  without  essentially  modifying  its  prin- 
ciples. Plotinus  and  Porphyry,  who  antedate  the  reign 
of  Constantine  and  the  ultimate  triumph  of  Christianity, 
are  outspoken  opponents  of  superstition,  like  all  the  great 
tliinkers  since  the  days  of  Xenophanes.  But  among  their 
successors  the  search  for  truth  is  gradually  subordinated  to 
the  interests  of  religion  and  apologetics.  After  ten  cent- 
uries of  opposition  against  traditional  religion,  philosophy 
became  alarmed  at  its  work  of  destruction ;  it  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  its  stubborn  opposition  had  simply  advanced 
the  cause  of  a  religion  that  w^as  foreign  to  the  Greek  spirit 
and  hostile  to  classic  culture,  and  that  its  official  repre- 
sentatives would  be  a  thousand  times  more  intolerant  than 
the  Greek  and  Roman  priesthood.  Thus  it  happened  that 
philosophy,  the  sworn  enemy  of  the  popular  faith,  became 
the  palladium  of  the  persecuted  gods ;  she  became  ancilla 
Panthei,  prior  to  becoming  ancilla  Ecdesice.     To  promote 

1  PorplHjriide  quinque  vocihm,  sice  in  categorias  Aristotelis  inirodiictio 
(eiVaywy^),  Paris,  15i3 ;  Latin  translation,  Venice,  1546, 1506.  We  also 
have  of  Porphyry  a  Life  of  Protagoras,  a  Life  of  Plotinus,  and  an 
Epistle  to  Aneho  (fragments  collected  by  Gale,  Oxford,  1678),  etc.  Sev- 
eral of  his  treatises,  the  most  important  perhaps,  are  lost.  Sources  : 
Suidas ;  Eunapius,  Vita  Soph.  ;  Augustine,  De  civitate  Dei,  X. ;  the 
De  Mysteriis  Mgyptinrum,  ascribed  to  Jamblichus  ;  [Ritter  and  Preller, 
pp.  541  ff.]  ;  N.  Bouillet,  Porphi/re,  son  role  dans  Ve'cole  ne'oplatonicienne, 
etc.  Paris,  1864;  Adrien  ']s&v\\\e,  Julien  V Apostat  et  la  philosopTiie  du 
polytheisme,  Paris  and  Neuchatel,  1877.  See,  besides,  the  works  quoted 
on  p. 166. 


PORPHYRY,  JAIVIBLICHUS,   PROCLUS  181 

polytheism,  to  promote  it  at  all  hazards :  such  Avas  the 
desperate  task  undertaken  by  lier.  Henceforth  she  re- 
gards everything  in  paganism  as  good ;  she  not  only 
excuses  and  tolerates  the  strangest  superstitions,  the  ex- 
orcism of  spirits,  the  practices  of  sorcery,  magic,  and  the- 
urgy, but  even  commends  them  and  practises  them  with 
feverish  zeal.  The  Greek  mind  literally  lapses  into  its 
second  cliildhood. 

The  death-struggle  is,  however,  broken  by  lucid  mo- 
ments. Among  the  few  sui'viving  defenders  of  the  dying 
polytheistic  faith  we  must  mention  two  men  who,  though 
compromising  with  paganism  and  pompously  assuming  the 
title  of  hierophants,  bring  the  history  of  ancient  philosophy 
to  a  brilliant  close.  I  mean  Jamblichus  of  Chalcis  in 
Coelesyria  (died  about  380),  tlie  most  distinguished  cham- 
pion of  what  we  call  Syrian  Neo-Platonism  (in  order  to 
distinguish  this  ultra-mystical  movement  from  the  philos- 
ophy of  Plotinus,  which  is  still  profoundly  Greek),  and 
Proclns  of  Byzantium  (412-485),  wdio  taught  at  Athens 
and  occupied  a  position  between  the  school  of  Rome  and 
Jamblichus,  of  whom  he  was  an  enthusiastic  admirer. 

2.  Jamblichus  ^  draws  liis  inspiration  from  the  specula- 
tions of  non-Christian  literature,  from  Pythagoras,  Plato, 
the  religious  tratUtions  of  the  Orient  and  Egypt,  and 
especially  from  his  sacred  triple  ternary.  His  mathemati- 
cal genius  and  Inilliant  imagination  enable  him  to  under- 
take a  philosophical  reconstruction  of  the  pagan  Pantheon. 
Tlic  gods  emanate  from  tlic  dcjjths  of  the  unspeakable 
unity  in  ternary  series,  and  form  a  triple  halo,  as  it  were, 

1  De  vita  Ptjlhagorce ;  Protrepticce  oraliones  ad  philo.tnphiam  ;  De 
tnysteriis  A^r/pliorum  (Creek  and  Latin  ed.  liy  Tli.  (iale,  Oxford, 
1078;  by  (i.  ParUu'V,  Bfiilin,  IB.").  Oilier  soiux-os :  Proclus,  In 
Timcpum;  Suidas;  [Kilter  and  Preller,  pp.  nili  if.];  IlelxMistrcit,  Dc 
Jamhilchi,  jifiilosoplii  Si/ri,  doctrina,  etc.,  Lei)),sic,  ITUl.  [Knj;l.  tr.  of 
Life  of  Pifthngorus,  by  Taylor,  London,  1818 ;  E<jyplian  Mysteries, 
Chiswick,'l82i.j 


X82  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

around  the  Monad  of  monads.  He  opposes  the  Christian 
conception  of  the  God-man  and  exaggerates  the  theological 
spiritualism  of  Plotinus  hy  declaring  the  absolute  to  be 
non-covwiunicaUe  (a/xedeKTO'i).  The  Supreme  God  is  not 
only  divested  of  all  intelligence,  but  of  all  qualities  what- 
soever. Hence  the  real  beings  do  not  participate  in  the 
absolute  unity  but  in  the  secondary  unities  (evaSa)  eman- 
atino-  from  it.  These  beings  are  also  transcendent  (virep- 
ovaiai),  but  plural.  This  hierarchy  of  derived  gods  is 
divided  into  three  stages :  intellectual  gods  {voepoi)^  supra- 
mundane  gods  [vTrepKoafiiOL),  and  the  immanent  gods  of 
the  world  (^ejKoafiLot').  We  come  into  communication 
only  with  thesfe  gods  (the  Ideas  of  Plato,  the  Numbers  of 
Pythagoras,  the  substantial  Forms  of  Aristotle) ;  they  are 
our  Providence.  The  absolute  has  no  share  in  the  gover- 
nance of  things. 

3.  Pkoclus  ^  derives  the  priestly  characteristics  of  liis 
philosophy  from  Jamblichus,  and  his  systematic  and  schol- 
astic tendencies  from  Plotinus.  He  bases  his  system  on 
the  triple  triad  of  Jamblichus,  and  deduces  from  the  abso- 
lute and  non-communicable  (a/^iedeKTos)  unity:  first,  being 
(oV),  i.  e.,  the  infinite  {airetpov),  the  end  or  form  (Trcpa?),  and 
their  unity,  the  finite  (/juktop,  ireirepaaixevov)  :  secondly, 
life  (^ft)?;),  i.  e.,  potentiality  (Svvafjn^'),  existence  (yTrap^t?), 
and  their  unity,  intelligible  life  (^ft)^  vojjt/])  ;  thirdly,  intel- 
ligence (yoO?),  i.  e.,  static  thought  (^fxeveiv'),  thought  in 
motion  or  perception  (irpoLevaC),  and  their  unity,  reflective 

1  Works  of  Proclus  :  In  theologiam  P/a/o?; i>,libri  VI.  ;  Instiiutw  theo- 
logica ;  In  Platonis  Timmum,  etc.  Prodi  opera  omnia,  ed.  V.  Cousin, 
Paris,  1819-27,  2d  ed.  in  6  vols.,  1864 ;  [Ritter  and  PreUer,  pp.  5.56  ff.]. 
See  on  Proclus  :  Marinus,  Vita  Prodi;  Suidas  ;  Berger,  Produs,  expo- 
sition de  sa  doctrine,  Paris,  1810 ;  J.  Simon,  Du  Commentaire  de  Produs 
sur  le  Time'e  de  Platon,  Paris,  1839;  C.  11.  Kirchner,  De  Prodi  neo- 
platonid  metaphijsica,  Berlin,  1846.  See  also  concerning  Jamblicluis 
and  Proclus  the  histories  of  the  Alexandrian  school  mentioned  on 
page  166. 


PORPHYRY,  JAMBLICHUS,  PROCLUS        183 

thought  (^eTTLarpocf)^').  Each  of  these  three  triads^  reveals 
to  those  initiated  into  pliilosophy  (^/xva-nKW^  one  of  the 
aspects  of  the  first  and  supra-intelligible  cause :  fii'st,  his 
unspeakable  unity ;  secondly,  his  inexhaustible  fertility 
(vTrepoxyf)  ;  thirdly,  his  infinite  perfection.  These  are  the 
emanations  of  the  absolute.  The  absolute  in  itself  is 
superior  to  being  and  even  to  thought,  as  the  principle  is 
superior  to  its  consequence  and  the  cause  to  its  eifect,  and 
therefore  forever  unknowable.  Whatever  is  supernatural 
in  its  essence  can  be  reached  only  by  supernatural  means ; 
theurgy  2  alone  can  reveal  it  to  the  initiated.  Knowledge 
is  confined  to  the  intelligible  sphere  and  needs  the  realities 
of  religion  in  order  to  attain  to  the  supra-intelligible. 

Tills  is,  in  language  freed  from  senile  pedantry,  the  last 
word  of  Neo-Platonic  metaphysics,  "  the  last  will  and  testa- 
ment "  of  antique  thought.  From  the  ontological  point  of 
view  and  compared  with  primitive  Platonism,  Neo-Pla- 
tonism  would  be  an  advance  in  the  monistic  direction,  if  it 
had  been  content  to  subordinate  the  Idea  to  a  higher  prin- 
ciple containing  both  being  and  thought.^  But  its  oppo- 
sition to  Clu-istianity,  the  fundamental  dogma  ^  of  which 
assumes  the  communicalility  of  the  divine,  impelled  it 
wantonly  to  exaggerate  the  transcendency  of  this  supreme 
principle ;  which  was  precisely  the  chief  defect  of  Platon- 
ism. And  how  much  inferior  it  is  to  Platonism  fiom  the 
ethical  and  religious  point  of  view !  Proclus  looks  upon 
the  practice  of  magic  as  the  essence  of  religion ;  for  Plato 
religion  means  the  2^f^(:icticc  of  justice.  There  is  as  great  a 
difference  between  these  two  conceptions  as  between  ma- 
ture, enlightened,  and  vigorous  manhood  and  decrepit  and 
superstitious  old  age. 

1  Cf.  the  triple  triad  in  the  system  of  Hegel. 

^  Qfovpyia,  (pyov  roii  6fov,  manifestation  of  the  divine  power. 

•  Tlif!  irill  of  concrete  spiritualism. 

■•  'J'lie  docrnia  of  the  incarnation. 


184  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

In  529  the  last  refuge  of  polytheistic  Neo-Platonism,  the 
school  at  Athens  where  Proclus  had  taught/  was  closed  by 
order  of  the  Emperor  Justinian.  The-  public  manifested 
such  indifference  towards  these  ruins  of  the  past,  that  the 
edict  was  scarcely  noticed.  Christianity  had  taken  pos- 
session of  the  empire  two  centuries  ago  ;  the  concrete  and 
thrilling  questions  of  religion,  wliich  is  a  product  of  the 
will,  and  the  troubles  caused  by  the  invasions  of  the  bar- 
barians, superseded  the  serene  and  peaceful  Oawpia. 

^  The  last  scholarchs  are  :  Marinus  of  Flavia  Neapolis  in  Pales- 
tine, the  successor  of  Proclus,  Isidore  of  Alexandria^  and  Zeno- 
dotus  and  Damascius  of  Damas  (Quiestiones  de  primis  principiis,  ed. 
Kopp,  Francf.,  1826).  The  school  was  closed  while  the  latter  was 
at  its  head.  With  the  school  of  Athens  is  connected  the  name  of  the 
Cilician  Simplicius,  the  excellent  commentator  of  Epictetus  and  Aris- 
totle (Categories,  De  anima,  De  calo,  and  Physics),  who  was  a  fellow, 
student  and  af  terwai-ds  a  pupil  and  companion  in  exile  of  Damasciu>>- 


n 

PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 
FIRST   PERIOD 


REIGX  OF  PLATONIC^CHRISTIAN^  THEOLOGY 
§  27.     Christian  Platonism^ 

The  breath  of  expiring  Hellenism  passed  into  Chris- 
tianity. The  doctrines  of  Plato  and  his  latest  interpreters 
continued  to  influence  the  ablest  thinkers  among  the  fol- 
lowers of  the  Gospel,  and  the  philosophy  of  the  Church 
during  the  entire  ]\Iiddle  Ages  merely  re-echoes  the  teach- 
ings of  the  great  Athenian  philosopliers. 

In  the  cosmopolitan  city  of  Alexandria,  where  the  Greek 
mind  came  in  contact  with  the  Semitic  genius,  there  was 

1  For  Patristic  speculation,  consult  the  general  histories  of  philo- 
sophy, the  Church  histories,  and  the  works  mentioned  on  page  10 ; 
[Collection  of  the  works  of  the  Fathers,  Patrum  Aposlnllcorwn  Opera, 
ed.  by  O.  de  Gerhardt,  A.  Ilarnack,  and  Th.  Zahn,  Leipsic,  1875  ff.; 
Eng.  trans..  Library  of  Xicene  and  Post-Xicene  Fathers,  ed.  Schaff 
and  Wace;  Moller,  Lehrbuch  der  Kirchengeschichte  (vol.  I.,  Die  alte 
Kirche,  Freiburg,  i.  B.,  1889) ;  A.  Ilarnack,  Geschichte  der  altchrist- 
lichen  Litterafur  bis  Emebim,  Part  L,  Leipsic,  1893.  —  Tr.]  For  the 
systems  classified  under  heretical  Gnosticism,  see  [Neandcr,  Gene- 
tuicke  Enlicickelung  der  vornehmlen  gnoslischen  Si/stterne,  Berlin,  1818; 
Engl.  tr.  by  Ton-ey,  Boston,  180.5]  ;  J.  Matter,  Hisfoire  criti/jue  du 
(jnoMicisme,  .3  vols.,  Paris,  182-3;  2d  ed.,  1843;  F.  Chr.  Baur,  Die  chrlst- 
liche  Gnosh,  Tubingen,  1835;  [Lipsius  Der  Gnoaliciamua,  etc.,  Leipsic, 
1800  :  W.  Moller,  Geschichte  der  Kosmnlof/ie  in  der  (jricchischen  Kirche 
bii  auf  Orirjeries,  Halle,  ISOO,  pp.  189-473;  H.  L.  Mansel,  The  Gnostic 
Heresies,  etc.,  London,  1H75.  —  Tr.] 


186  PHILOSOPHY   OF  THE   MIDDLE   AGES 

formed,  at  the  beginning  of  the  third  century,  a  kind  of 
Chi'istian  Neo-Platonic  schooL  The  Latin  Fathers,  Ter- 
tullian,^  Arnobius,  and  Lactantius,^  rejected  philosophy  as 
a  heathen  product,  contact  with  wliich  must  be  avoided. 
The  Greek  and  Egyptian  Fathers,  however,  never  ceased 
to  cultivate  it.  Indeed,  the  attacks  cUrected  against  the 
Gospel  by  philosophy  itself  compelled  them  to  study  it. 
Owing  to  the  successful  pressure  thus  exerted,  the  Christ- 
ian faith  was  reduced  to  dogma  {Soj/jlo)  ;  it  was  formu- 
lated and  systematized.  The  authors  of  the  dogmas  had  to 
'philosophize  in  spite  of  themselves  and  in  self-defence,  so  to 
speak.  Some  of  them  went  so  far  as  to  regard  the  teach- 
ings of  the  heathen  sages  as  divine  rcAelalions  similar  to 
the  Gospel.  Plato  was  the  only  philosopher  A^•ho  received 
serious  consideration.  The  school  of  Alexancbia  tauglit 
an  essentially  religious  })hilosophy,  differing  in  this  respect 
from  the  other  schools,  wliich  were,  for  tlie  most  part,  scep- 
tical. One  could  not  but  recognize  certain  similarities 
between  Plato  and  Christianity;  but  how  was  this  rela- 
tionship, which  sometimes  amounted  to  identity,  to  be 
explained  ?  Some  —  and  they  were  in  the  majority  — 
believed  that  Plato  had  cbawn  from  the  writings  of 
the  Old  Testament.  The  enlightened  minority  concluded 
that  the  philosophers  worthy  of  the  name  must  have 
been  inspired  by  tlie  same  divine  reason  (Xo'709)  wliich 
revealed  itself  in  Jesus  of  Nazareth.  Still  others  had  re- 
course to  both  hj^potheses.  Justin  the  INIartyr,  the  author 
of  an  Apology  of  Christianity,  assumes  that  the  Xoyo^  is 

^  TertulL,  De  prcescript.  hcer.,  c.  7;  Apol.,  c. 47;  Adv.  Marcion.,Y ., 
19.  The  Credo  quia  absurdum  of  Tertullian  is  to  be  taken  literally. 
If  reason  has  become  deceptive  in  consequence  of  the  Fall,  it  is  evi- 
dent that  a  doctrine  contradicting  it  (an  absurd  doctrine)  has  more 
chances  of  being  true  than  one  conforming  to  it.  Nothing  is  more 
logical  than  the  challenge  which  this  distinguished  theologian  hurls  at 
reason. 

*  Lact.,  Div.  instit;  III.,  1. 


CHEISTIAN  PLATONISM  187 

universal  in  its  operation,  and  claims  eternal  happiness  for 
Socrates,  Heraclitus,  and,  in  general,  for  those  among  the 
heathen,  Avho,  though  not  knowing  Jesus,  lived  according 
to  Keason.^  Athenagoras,  the  author  of  the  treatise  On 
the  Resurrection  of  the  Dead,  Tatian  the  Apologist,  St. 
Clement  of  Alexandria,  and  his  chsciple  Origen,  all  express 
Neo-Platonic  conceptions  in  their  A^ritings.  The  apostles, 
says  Origen,^  have  set  forth  the  fundamental  doctrines  of 
the  faith  in  a  manner  capable  of  being  understood  by  the 
ignorant  and  the  learned  alike,  leaving  it  to  such  among 
their  successors  as  were  endowed  with  the  Spirit  to  ths- 
cover  the  reasons  for  their  assertions.  Origen  consequently 
makes  a  chstinction  between  the  popular  and  the  scientific 
manner  of  expressing  the  Christian  faith,  between  the  form 
it  assumes  in  the  writings  of  the  apostles  and  the  form  in 
which  it  must  be  conceived  by  the  Christian  pliilosopher : 
a  distinction  which  forms  the  basis  of  Scholastic  rational- 
ism. Finally,  Athanasius,  Basil  the  Great,  Gregory  of 
N3'ssa,  Gregory  of  Nazianzus,  and  among  the  Latin  Fathers 
(most  of  whom  were  hostile  to  philosoph}-),  Augustine, 
were  directly  or  indirectly  influenced  by  Academic  and 
Alexandrian  teachings. 

It  would  be  impossible  to  enter  upon  a  detailed  study 
of  the  Patristic  doctrines  without  encroaching  upon  the 
domain  of  pure  theology ;  hence  it  will  be  enough  for  our 
special  purpose  to  explain  the  philosophy  of  Augustine, 
whose  writings  form  the  connecting  link  between  Greek 
thought  and  Scholastic  speculation. 

^  Apolor/J/,  TI.,  p.  83  :  Ti)v  Xpia-Tuv  irjiUiTi'iTOKov  tov  dtov  (ivai  (8i8dx0rilJ-(v, 
Koi  7vp'jffxr]Vv<T<ni(V  \6yov  oura  ov  t,uv  ytVoy  duOpunrtou  fifT((T)(f  '  kui  ol  fiera 
Xoyov  jiiuxravTfi  ■x^piaTinvo'i  fieri-,  Kav  tidfoi  (wofiia-drjaav,  olou  fv"E\\q(ri  [lev 
SooK/juTT^f  Koi   H/ju((X«trof  k(u  aK\oi  iroXXoi. 

2  De princ'qnis,  rreface.  J.  Dtiiiis,  De  la philosuphie d'Orighie,  I'aiis, 
1884. 


188  PHILOSOPHY   OF  THE   MIDDLE   AGES 


§  28.      St.  Augustine 

After  a  youth  of  dissipation,  the  rhetorician  Aurelius 
AuGUSTiNUS  of  Thagaste,  Africa,  (354-430),  embraced  the 
religion  of  his  mother.  He  united  in  his  soul  a  deep  love 
of  Christ  and  an  ardent  zeal  for  philosophy,  although, 
after  becoming  Bishop  of  Hippo,  he  gradually  favored  an 
absolute  submission  to  the  religious  authority  rei^resented 
by  him.  His  writings,  the  most  important  of  which  are 
the  Confessions  and  the  City  of  G-od,^  have  left  a  deep 
impress  upon  the  doctrines  and  the  entire  literature  of 
the  Roman  Church. 

For  him  as  for  Plato,  science  means  a  purer,  clearer, 
more  exalted  life,  the  life  of  the  thinker.^  Reason  is 
capable  of  comprehending  God  (cajjahilis) -,  for  God  has 
given  it  to  us  in  order  that  we  may  know  all  tilings  and 
consequently  God.^  To  philosophize  is  to  see  truth  directly 
and  without  the  intervention  of  the  eyes  of  the  body.  Rea- 
son is  the  eye  of  the  soul.  Wisdom  is  the  highest  truth 
after  which  we  should  strive.  Now,  what  is  wisdom  but 
God  ?  To  have  wisdom  means  to  have  God.  True  philo- 
sophy is  therefore  identical  with  true  religion :  *  both  have 
the  same  strivings  for  the  eternal.  Why  should  God  de- 
spise Reason,  his  first-born  Son,  —  Reason,  wliich  is  God 

1  Other  writings  of  St.  Augustine  :  De  libera  arhitrio ;  De  vera  reli- 
gione;  De  immortalitate  animce ;  De prcedestinatione  et  gratia ;  Retractiones ; 
"etc.  Worlcs  of  St.  Augustine,  Paris,  1835,  ft. ;  [vols.  XXXIT.-XLVIL 
of  Migne's  collection;  tr.  ed.  by  Dods,  15  vols.,  Edinburgh,  1871-77, 
also  in  Scliaff's  library,  Nicene  and  Post-Xicene  Fathers,  vols.  L-VIII., 
Buffalo,  1886-88.  See  Bindemann,  Der  lieilige  Augustinus,  .3  vols., 
Berlin,  etc.,  1844-69;  A.  Dorner,  Augustinus,  etc.,  Berlin,  1873;  Bohr- 
inger,  Geschichte  der  Kirche  Chri>^ti  (vol.  XL),  2d  ed.,  Zurich,  1861; 
Xeander,  Allgemeiiie  Geschichte  der  Religion,  etc.  (II.,  1,  2),  8d  ed., 
Gotha,  1850;  Eng.  tr.  by  J.  Torrey.  —  Tr.];  Ferraz,  La  psijchologie 
de  Saint  Angus! in,  Paris,  1863. 

2  De  libera  arbitrio,  I.,  7.         «  Id.,  II.,  3,  6.         *  De  vera  religione,  5. 


ST.   AUGUSTINE  189 

himself !  He  gave  it  to  us  in  order  to  make  us  more  per- 
fect than  other  beings.  Nay,  fuith,  which  some  oppose 
to  reason,  is  possible  only  to  a  being  endowed  with  reason. 
Chronologically,  faith  precedes  intelligence  :  in  order  to 
understand  a  tiling  we  must  first  believe  it,  —  credo  ut 
iiitdligam.  However,  though  faith  is  a  condition  of 
knowledge,  it  is  nevertheless  a  provisional  state,  infe- 
rior to  knowledge,  and  ultimately  resolves  itself  into  it. 
The  theocUcy  of  St.  Augustine  is  essentially  Platonic, 
and  at  times  even  aj)proaches  the  boldest  conceptions  of 
the  school  of  Alexandiia.  God  is  the  being  beyond  whom, 
outside  of  whom,  and  without  whom,  nothing  exists  ;  he  is 
the  being  below  whom,  in  and  through  whom,  everything 
exists  that  has  reality ;  he  is  the  beginning,  the  middle, 
and  the  end  of  all  things.^  Goodness,  justice,  and  wis- 
dom are  not  accidental  attributes  of  God,  but  his  innermost 
essence.  The  same  is  true  of  his  metaphysical  attributes. 
Omnipotence,  omnipresence,  and  eternity  are  not  mere  acci- 
dents of  the  Divine  Being,  but  his  divine  essence.  God  is 
substantially  omnipresent,  without,  however,  being  every- 
thing ;  everything  is  in  him,  though  he  is  not  the  All.  He 
is  good  and  yet  without  quality ;  he  is  great,  without  being 
a  quantity;  he  is  the  creator  of  intelligence  and  yet  supe- 
rior to  it ;  he  is  present  everj^where,  without  being  bound  to 
any  place  ;  he  exists  and  yet  is  nowhere  ;  he  lives  eternally 
and  yet  is  not  in  time  ;  he  is  the  principle  of  all  change 
and  yet  immutable.  In  speculating  about  God,  reason  is 
necessarily  involved  in  a  series  of  antinomies  ;  it  states 
what  he  is  not,  without  arriving  at  any  definite  conclu- 
sion as  to  liis  nature;  it  conceives  him,  —  in  this  sense  it 
is  capable  of  him  (capahilis'),  —  but  it  cannot  comprehend 
him  in  tlie  fullness  of  liis  perfection.  Tlie  imj)ortant  point 
is  to  distinguish  carefully  between  God  and  tlic  woild.  St. 
Augustine,  whose  conceptions  closely  bordei'  \\\Hm  panthe- 

1   SnUlnrj.,  T.,  3-1. 


190  nilLOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

ism,  us  the  preceding  shows,  escapes  it  by  his  doctrine  of 
creation  ex  nihilo.^  If  the  universe  has  emanated  from 
God,  then  it  is  itself  of  divine  essence  and  identical  with 
God.  Hence,  it  is  not  an  emanation  but  was  created  by  an 
act  of  divine  freedom.  God  is  not  the  soul  of  the  world  ; 
the  world  is  not  the  body  of  God,  as  the  Stoics  held.  The 
immanency  of  God  in  the  world  would  be  contrary  to  the 
divine  majesty .^ 

Some  falsely  interpret  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  in  the 
tritheistic  or  polytheistic  sense.  Here  lies  another  danger. 
The  tlu-ee  hypostases,  although  distinct,  constitute  but  one 
and  the  same  God,  just  as  reason,  will,  and  the  emotions 
form  but  one  and  the  same  human  being.^  St.  Augustine's 
criticisms  on  Arianism  are  very  profound.  What  do  you 
mean,  he  demands  of  the  Arians,  by  assuming  that  the  Son 
created  the  world  at  the  command  of  the  Father  ?  Do  you 
not  thereby  assert  that  God  the  Father  did  not  create  the 
world,  but  simply  ordered  a  demiurge  to  create  it  ?  What 
is  the  Son  if  not  the  word  of  God,  and  what  is  a  command 
if  not  an  act  of  speech  ?  Hence,  God  commanded  the  Son 
through  the  Son  to  create  the  world.  What  a  strange  and 
absurd  conclusion  !  Arianism  errs  in  that  it  desires  to  pie- 
ture  the  Trinity  to  itself ;  it  imagines  two  beings  placed 
very  near  to  each  other;  each  one,  however,  occupying 
his  particular  place  ;  and  one  of  them  commands,  while  the 
other  obeys.  Arianism  should  have  seen  that  the  com- 
mand by  means  of  which  God  created  the  world  out  of 
nothing  simply  means  the  creative  Word  itself.  God  is 
a  spirit,  and  we  should  not  and  cannot  form  an  image 
of  the  immaterial.* 

Inasmuch  as  God  created  the  world  b}'  an  act  of  free- 
dom, we  must  assume  that  the  world  had  a  beginning ;  for 

^  De  libero  arbitrio,  L,  2.  ^  j)g  ciritate  Dei,  IV.,  12. 

^  De  trinitate,  IX.,  3  ;  X.,  11.  *  Contra  serm.  avian. 


ST.  AUGUSTINE  1^1 

eternal  creation,  the  conception  of  Origen  and  the  Neo- 
Platonists,  is  sj-nonyinous  with  emanation.  Philoso^jhers 
raise  the  objection  that  creation  in  time  would  imply  an 
eternity  of  inaction  on  part  of  the  Creator ;  but  they 
are  wrong.  Their  error  consists  in  considering  the  eter- 
nit}'  which  i^rcccdcd  creation  as  an  infinitely-long  dura- 
tion. Duration  is  time.  Now,  outside  of  creation  there 
is  neither  space,  nor  time,  nor,  consequently,  duration,^ 
Time  or  duration  is  the  measure  of  motion ;  where  there 
is  no  movement  there  is  no  duration.  Since  there  is  no 
movement  in  eternity  and  in  God,  there  is  no  duration  in 
him,  and  time,  as  Plato  aptly  remarks,  begins  only  with 
movement,  that  is,  with  the  existence  of  finite  things. 
Hence,  it  is  incorrect  to  say  that  the  God  of  the  Clu-is- 
tians  cUd  not  create  things  until  after  an  infinite  series  of 
intinitely-long  periods  of  absolute  inaction.  Moreover,  St. 
Augustine  recognizes  the  difficulty  of  conceiving  God 
without  the  universe.  On  this  point,  as  well  as  on  many 
others,  Augustine  the  philosopher  conflicts  witli  Augustine 
the  Christian.  This  constant  discord  between  his  faith  and 
his  reason  leads  to  numerous  inconsistencies  and  contradic- 
tions. God,  for  example,  created  the  world  by  an  act  of 
his  free-will,  and  yet  creation  is  not  the  result  of  caprice 
but  of  an  eternal  and  immutable  decree.^  It  is  immaterial 
whether  the  immutal)le  will  of  God  compels  liim  to  create 
the  world  at  a  fixed  period  of  time  or  whether  it  eternally 
compels  him  to  do  it;  in  either  case  we  have  absolute  de- 
termination. St.  Augustine  i-oalizes  this,  and  eventually 
uiireservedl}^  declares  that  divine  freedom  is  the  princi])le 
and  supreme  norm  of  things.  Since  llie  di\ine  will  is  the 
idtimate  prineiple.  tliau  wliieh  there  is  nothing  higher,  it 
is  useless  and  absurd  to  inquire   into   the   final  cause   of 

»  Confes^x.,  XI ,  U  ft. ;  De  civ.  Del,  XL,  4-G. 
2  De'cio.  Del,  Xlb,  17. 


192  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE   MIDDLE  AGES 

creation.^  God  called  other  beings  than  himself  into  ex- 
istence, because  he  willed  to  do  so.  Human  reason  has  no 
right  to  go  fartlier  than  that.  All  it  may  do  is  to  ask  itself 
the  question :  Why  did  God  make  things  so  different  from 
each  other  and  so  unequal  ?  St.  Augustine  answers,  with 
Plato,  that  the  diversity  of  the  parts  is  the  condition  of  the 
unity  of  the  whole. 

The  existence  of  the  soul  is  proved  by  thought,  con- 
sciousness, and  memory.  You  are  in  doubt  about  your 
existence,  are  you?  But  to  doubt  means  to  think,  does 
it  not?  and  to  think  is  to  exist,  is  it  not?^  It  is  more 
difficult  to  say  what  the  soul  is.  According  to  some,  it  is 
lire  or  fine  air  or  the  fifth  element,  possessing  the  property 
of  thought,  understanding,  and  memory  ;  others  identify  it 
with  the  brain  or  the  blood,  and  make  thought  an  effect  of 
the  organization  of  the  body.  But  these  are  mere  hypo- 
theses, disproved  by  the  simple  fact  that  we  are  not  con- 
scious of  any  of  these  substances  constituting  the  soul.  If 
we  were  made  of  fire  or  of  air  or  of  any  other  material,  we 
should  know  it  by  an  immediate  perception  which  would 
be  inseparable  from  our  self-consciousness.  The  soul  is  a 
substance  differing  from  all  known  matter  as  well  as  from 
matter  in  general ;  for  it  contains  notions  of  the  point, 
the  line,  length,  breadth,  and  other  conceptions,  all  of 
which  are  absolutely  incorporeal.^ 

Granting  this,  what  shall  we  say  of  the  origin  of  the 
soul?  There  are  thinkers,  even  among  the  Christians, 
who  conceive  it  as  emanating  from  God.  That,  however, 
does  it  too  much  honor.  It  is  a  creature  of  God,  and  has 
had  a  beginning,  like  every  other  creature.''      However, 

1  Qucesf.  (liv.,  quccst.,  28.  The  same  views  are  held  by  the  pantheist 
Spinoza,  the  atheist  Schopenhauer  (  Welt  ah  Wille,  II.,  Epiphilosophie), 
and  Claude  Bernard  (quoted  by  the  Revue  chredenne,  March,  1869, 
p.  1.38). 

2  This  is  the  cogito  ergo  sum  of  Descartes. 

•  De  quantitate  animce,  13.  *  Epistle  157. 


ST.  AUGUSTINE  193 

even  among  those  who  on  principle  assume  that  the  soul 
is  a  creature,  opinions  differ  as  to  the  mode  of  its  creation. 
Some  hold  that  God  directly  created  only  the  soul  of  Adam 
and  that  the  souls  of  other  men  are  produced  per  traducem. 
This  theory  (which  undoubtedly  favors  St.  Augustine's 
doctrine  concerning  the  transmission  of  Adam's  sin  to  his 
descendants)  is  materialistic,  for  it  considers  the  soul  as 
capable  of  being  communicated  and  divided.  Others  main- 
tain that  souls  were  created,  but  existed  before  bodies  ; 
they  were  not  introduced  into  them  until  after  the  Fall ; 
the  object  of  their  captivity  being  the  expiation  of  the 
errors  of  a  previous  life.  This  doctrine^,  wliich  Plato 
holds,  is  disproved  by  the  fact  that  we  have  not  the  slight- 
est recollection  of  any  such  state  of  pre-existence.  Plato 
finds  that  even  illiterate  persons  will,  upon  proper  ques- 
tioning, assert  great  mathematical  trutlis,  and  concludes 
therefrom  that  such  persons  existed  prior  to  the  present, 
and  that  the  ideas  aroused  in  theii'  minds  by  our  inquiries 
are  but  reminiscences.  But  his  hypothesis  loses  its  force 
when  we  remember  that  such  ideas  may  be  developed  by 
the  Socratic  method  in  all  minds  endowed  with  common 
sense.  If  they  are  reminiscences,  it  would  have  to  be 
assumed  that  all  men  were  geometricians  and  mathema- 
ticians in  their  pre-existent  state ;  which,  judging  from 
the  small  number  of  transcendental  mathematicians  among 
the  human  race,  seems  very  improbable.  Plato's  argument 
in  favor  of  pre-existence  would  perhaps  have  more  weight  in 
case  great  mathematical  truths  could  ])e  extracted  only  from 
a  few  minds.  Finally,  there  is  a  third  conception,  accord- 
ing to  which  souls  are  created  as  soon  as  bodies  are  created. 
This  theory  is  more  in  line  with  spiritualistic  principles, 
although  it  is  not  so  good  a  su2)port  for  the  dogma  of 
original  sin  as  the  others. 

Tlie  immoitality  of  the  soul  necessarily  follows  from  its 
rational  nature.      Reason  brings  the  soul  into  immediate 

13 


194  PHILOSOPHY  OF   THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

communion  with  eternal  truth ;  indeed,  the  soul  and  truth 
constitute  but  one  and  the  same  substance,  as  it  were.  The 
death  of  the  soul  would  mean  its  utter  se^Daration  from 
truth;  but  what  finite  being  would  be  powerful  enough 
to  produce  such  a  violent  rupture  ?  and  why  should  God, 
who  is  truth  personified,  produce  it?  Are  not  thought, 
meditation,  and  the  contemplation  of  divine  things  inde- 
pendent of  the  senses,  independent  of  the  body  and  of 
matter?  Hence,  Avhen  the  body  turns  into  dust,  why 
sliould  that  which  is  independent  of  it  perish  with  it?i 
In  rejecting  the  notion  of  pre-existence,  St.  Augustine 
also  abandons  the  theory  of  innate  ideas,  or  rather,  he  modi- 
fies it.  He  assumes,  with  Plato,  that  when  God  formed 
the  human  soul,  he  endowed  it  with  eternal  ideas,  the 
principles  and  nouns  of  reason  and  will.  Thus  interpreted, 
St.  Augustine  accepts  the  doctrine  of  innate  ideas.  He 
denies,  however,  that  these  ideas  are  reminiscences  or  sur- 
vivals of  a  pre-existent  state,  and  he  does  so  on  the  ground 
that  if  such  a  theory  were  true,  we  would  not  be  creatures, 
but  gods.  He  rejects  the  doctrine  of  pre-existence  because 
it  implies  an  existence  that  has  no  beginning.  He  also  be- 
comes more  and  more  suspicious  of  the  theory  of  innate 
ideas,  because  the  theory  might  lead  one  to  conclude  that 
ideas  existed  originally  in  the  human  soul  and  were  not 
implanted  a  posteriori  by  a  being  outside  of  the  soul.  St. 
Augustine's  chief  aim  is  to  elevate  God  by  debasing  man ; 
to  represent  the  latter  as  a  wholly  passive  being  who  owes 
nothing  to  himself  and  everything  to  God.  In  the  words 
of  the  Apostle :  "  What  hast  thou  that  thou  didst  not  re- 
ceive ?  Now,  if  thou  didst  receive  it,  why  dost  thou  glory 
as  if  thou  hadst  not  received  it  ?  "  ^  Man  as  such  is  the 
personification  of  impotence  and  nothingness.  Whatever 
he  possesses,  he  has  received  from  others. 

^  De  immortalitate  animce,  I.,  4,  6. 
^  St.  Paul,  1  Corinthians,  TV.  7. 


ST.   AUGUSTINE  195 

The  human  soul  is  passive,  receptive,  contemplative,  and 
nothing  more.  It  receives  its  knowledge  of  sensible  tilings 
through  the  senses ;  it  receives  its  moial  and  religious  no- 
tions through  the  instrumentality  of  the  Spirit.  It  owes 
its  conception  of  the  external  world  to  the  terrestrial 
light  surrounthng  its  body,  and  its  knowledge  of  celestial 
things  to  the  heavenly  light  which  forms  its  spiritual  en- 
vii-onment.  However,  this  interior  light,  which  is  nothing 
but  God  liimself,  is  not  outside  of  us  ;  if  it  were,  God  would 
be  an  extended  and  material  being ;  it  is  in  us  without 
being  identical  with  us.  In  it  and  tlirough  it  we  perceive 
the  eternal  forms  of  tilings,  or  as  Plato  calls  them,  the  Ideas, 
the  immutable  essences  of  passing  realities.  God  himself 
is  the  form  of  all  tilings,  that  is,  the  eternal  law  of  their 
origin,  development,  and  existence.  He  is  the  Idea  of  the 
ideas,  and,  consequently,  the  true  reality,  for  reality  dwells 
not  in  the  visible  but  in  the  invisible ;  it  is  not  found  in 
matter  but  in  the  Idea.^ 

St.  Augustine's  idealism,  which  comes  from  Plato  and 
anticipates  Malebranche's  vision  in  God  and  Schelling's 
intellectual  intuition,  was,  like  his  philosophy  in  general, 
subjected  to  the  influence  of  the  theological  system  cham- 
pioned by  him  during  the  latter  part  of  his  life.  The 
inner  light,  ^^'llich  reveals  to  the  thinker  God  and  the  eter- 
nal types  of  things,  seems  to  him  to  grow  dimmer  and  dim- 
mer, the  more  convinced  he  becomes  of  the  fall  and  radical 
corruption  of  human  nature.  Reason,  which,  before  the 
Fall,  was  the  organ  of  God  and  the  infallible  revealer  of 
celestial  things,  is  obscured  by  sin  ;  the  inner  light  changes 
into  darkness.  Had  it  remained  pure,  God  would  not  liave 
had  to  incarnate  himself  in  Jesus  Clirist  in  order  to  reveal 
himself  to  humanity.  Reason  would  have  wliolly  sufficed 
to  reclaim  th(;  lost  liuman  race.      But  tlie  woid  was  made 

'  De  civ.  Dei,  XIII.,  lit;  Dc  lib.  urhitrio,  II.,  ;},  (J;  De  immort. 
anim.,  G. 


196  PHILOSOPHY   OF  THE   MIDDLE   AGES 

flesh,  and,  the  inner  light  being  obscured,  the  Father  of 
lio-ht  appealed  to  our  senses  in  order  to  transmit  through 
them  what  reason  was  no  longer  able  to  give  us.  In  this 
way,  .Vugustine  the  theologian  transforms  the  idealism  of 
Augustine  the  philosopher  into  sensualism. 

The  moral  ideas  of  St.  Augustine  suffer  the  same  changes. 
His  conceptions  rise  far  beyond  the  general  level  of  patris- 
tic ethics,  when  Plato  inspires  liis  thought.  In  Iris  polemic 
against  moral  philosophy,  Lactantius  had  declared  in  true 
Epicurean  fashion :  Non  est,  ut  aiunt,  })roiAcr  seiinam  virtus 
expetenda,  sed  propter  vitam  bcatam,  quce  virtutem  necessario 
sequitur,^  and  TertuUian  had  written  the  words :  Bonum 
atque  optimum  est  quod  Dens  prcecepit.  Audaciarn  existimo 
de  bono  divini  prcecepti  disputare.  Neque  enim  quia  honum 
est,  idcirco  auscultare  dehemus,  sed  quia  Deus  prcecepit.'^  St. 
Augustine's  reply  to  Lactantius  is,  that  virtue  and  not 
happiness  constitutes  the  highest  goal  of  free  activity, 
or  the  sovereign  good.  He  opposes  to  eudsemonism  ethi- 
cal idealism.  Against  the  indeterminism  of  TertuUian 
he  raises  the  objection  that  the  moral  law  does  not  depend 
on  any  one,  but  that  it  is  itself  the  absolute.^  The  divine 
will  does  not  make  goodness,  beauty,  and  truth ;  absolute 
goodness,  absolute  beauty,  and  absolute  truth  constitute  the 
will  of  God,  Is  the  moral  law  good  because  God  is  the 
highest  lawgiver  ?  No.  We  regard  him  who  has  given  us 
the  moral  law  as  the  highest  lawgiver,  because  it  is  good. 
A  thing  is  not  bad  because  God  forbids  it ;  God  forbids  it 
because  it  is  bad.  St.  Jerome  and  St.  Chrysostom  con- 
doned and  even  authorized  official  falsehood.  Permit  false- 
hood, and  you  permit  sin  !  answers  the  Bishop  of  Hippo.* 

St.  Augustine  is  perfectly  aware  of  the  insoluble  diffi- 
culties which  the  problem  of  human  freedom  considered  in 
its  relations  to  divine  prescience,  and  the  question  of  the 

1  Imt.  Dir.,  III.,  12.  2  ])g  pcenitenda,  IV. 

^  De  lib.  arbitr.,  I.,  3.  "*  Contra  mendacium,  c.  15. 


ST.  AUGUSTINE  197 

origin  of  evil  present.  If  God  foresees  our  actions,  these 
lose  their  fortuitous  character  and  become  necessary.  Then 
how  are  we  to  explain  free-will,  responsibility,  and  sin? 
If  God  is  the  source  of  all  things,  must  we  not  also  assume 
that  evil  proceeds  from  liis  will  ?  And  even  if  evil  were 
only  privation,  the  absence  of  good,  would  not  this  lack 
of  virtue  be  caused  by  the  refusal  of  the  divine  will  to  en- 
lighten the  soul  and  to  turn  it  in  the  direction  of  the 
good  ? 

The  jjbilosophical  reasons  inclining  St.  Augustine  tow- 
ards determinism  are  supplemented  by  religious  reasons.^ 
He  feels  that  he  is  a  sinner  and  incapable  of  being  saved 
through  his  own  efforts.  The  natural  man  is  the  slave  of 
evil,  and  divine  grace  alone  can  make  him  free.  Now, 
divine  grace  cannot  be  brought  about  by  man  ;  it  is  entirely 
dependent  on  God's  freedom.  God  saves  man  because  he 
desires  it,  but  he  does  not  save  all  men.  He  chooses 
among  them,  and  destines  a  certain  number  for  salvation. 
This  election  is  an  eternal  act  on  his  part,  antecedent  to 
the  creation  of  man.  That  is,  some  men  are  p7'edestined 
for  salvation,  others  are  not.  St.  Augustine  ignores  the 
question  of  predestination  for  damnation,  as  far  as  he  can, 
but  it  is  logically  im})ossible  for  him  to  escape  this  neces- 
sary consequence  of  his  j)remise. 

However  suj^erior  his  teaching  may  be  to  that  of  Pela- 
gius  his  adversary,  it  is  plain  tliat,  as  soon  as  his  thought 
enters  upon  the  path  of  theological  fatalism,  it  gradually 
sinks  to  the  level  of  the  ethics  of  Lactantius  and  Tertul- 
lian.  The  determinism  in  whicli  his  metaphysical  specu- 
lations culminate  is  absolute,  embracing  man  and  God  in 
its  scope  ;  while  the  determinism  postulated  by  his  religious 
consciousness  applies  only  to  man  and  Icum-s  God  abso- 
lutely undetermined.    For   Angusline    the    tliinkor,   abso- 

1  De  civ.  Dei,  XX.  ;  Oc  r/ratia  Dei  el  lib.  arb.,  G  ;  De  pnrdesliiiatione 
saiiclortim,  18;   De  j/rail.  il  rjralia,  2. 


198  PHILOSOPHY   OF  THE   MIDDLE   AGES 

lute  goodness  constitutes  the  essence  of  the  divine  will ; 
for  Augustine  the  champion  of  predestination,  good  and 
evil  are  dependent  on  God's  will.  The  God  of  the  Pla- 
tonic tliinker  manifests  himself  to  the  world  in  Jesus 
Christ  by  virtue  of  an  inner  necessity ;  according  to  the 
doctor  of  the  Church,  the  incarnation  is  but  one  of  the 
thousand  means  which  God  might  have  employed  to  realize 
his  aims.  The  philosopher  admires  and  respects  the  ancient 
virtues ;  the  theologian  sees  in  them  nothing  but  vices  in 
disguise,  splcndida  vitiaJ- 

St.  Augustine  excellently  exemplifies  the  intellectual 
and  moral  crisis  that  forms  the  boundary  between  the 
classical  epoch  and  the  Middle  Ages. 

§  29.     The   Death    Struggles   of   the    Roman  World.  —  Bar- 
barism. —  The  First  Symptoms  of  a  New  Philosophy 

When  St.  Augustine  expired,  the  Western  Empire  lay 
at  the  point  of  death.  From  every  side  the  Northern 
hordes  broke  through  the  frontiers.  Gaul  and  Spain  were 
in  their  hands,  and  Italy  menaced.  With  the  collapse  of 
the  State,  the  entire  Gra^co-Roman  civilization  sank  into 
ruins.  The  Church  alone  of  all  the  old  institutions  had 
a  chance  of  weathering  the  storm.  She  opened  the  gates  of 
a  better  world  to  the  naive  believers  of  the  North  as  well 
as  to  the  Uase  Grseco-Latin  sceptics,  and  closed  them  upon 
the  unworthy.  This  power  of  the  keys  she  received  directly 
from  God,  and  it  gave  her  a  powerful  hold  on  both  Romans 
and  barbarians.  Moreover,  the  Church  not  only  repre- 
sented the  ancient  ideals,  which  the  future  had  to  develop 
or  transform ;  she  also  proclaimed  the  essentially  new  and 
fruitful  principle  of  the  equality  of  nations  and  individuals 
before  God,  the  doctrine  of  the  unity  and  solidarity  of  the 
human   race;     in  a   word,    the   idea  of  humanity.     And 

^  De  clvitafe  Dei,  XIX.,  25. 


FIRST   SYMPTOMS   OF   A   NEW   PHILOSOPHY  199 

SO  it  happened  that,  when  the  catastrophe  arrived,  the 
Church  remained  stable  and  inherited  tlie  empire.  As  the 
heir  of  chissical  culture  and  the  depositary  of  the  instru- 
ments of  salvation,  she  henceforth  bestows  the  gifts  of 
education  upon  the  barbarians,  and  the  bread  of  Heaven 
upon  all.  She  establishes  new  nations ;  and  under  her 
fostering  care  the  Neo-Latin  and  Germanic  civilization 
shows  the  first  signs  of  life. 

However,  centuries  passed  before  the  death  struggles  of 
antiquity  ended,  and  a  new  world  was  born.  The  lit- 
erary traditions  of  Greece  and  Rome  were  kept  alive  in 
parts  of  Italy  and  the  Eastern  Empire.  While  the  last 
thinkers  of  paganism  were  consuming  their  strength  in 
weak  efforts  to  revive  the  religion  of  the  past,  a  Christian, 
hiding  his  identity  beneath  the  pseudonym  of  Dionysius 
the  Areopagite,^  advanced  beyond  the  timid  speculations  of 
the  Greek  Fathers,  and  christianized  the  Neo-Platonic 
system,  thereby  sowing  the  seed  in  Clxiistian  thought  which 
sprang  up  in  jNIaximus  the  Confessor,^  Scotus  Erigena, 
Hugo  and  Richard  of  St.  Victor,  Eckhart,  Bohme,  and 
Bruno.  ]Marcianus  Capella  (about  450)  wrote  an  encyclo- 
pecha  of  the  sciences.^  John  Philoponus,*  a  contemporary 
of  the  Xeo-Platonist  Simplicius,  published  commentaries 
on  the  works  of  Aristotle  and  defended  the  teachings  of 
Christianity.  At  about  the  same  period,  the  Roman  Boe- 
thius  ^  translated  Plato  and  Aristotle,  and  wrote  his  deliohtr 

O 

1  Dionysii  Areopagitse  Opera,  Greek  and  liatiii,  [Bale,  1539] ;  Paris, 
1615,  1C14:  (2  folio  vols.)  ;  raise  in  Migne's  collection];  Engelhardt, 
De  ortfjine  scriptorum  Areopayilicorum,  Erlangen,  1823;  [J.  Colet,  Ttoo 
Treatises  on  the  Hierarchies  of  Dionysius,  with  Transl.,  Introduction 
and  Notes,  by  J.  II.  Lupton,  London,  1869.  —  Tr.]. 

2  580-662.     Opera,  ed.  Conibefisius,  2  vols.,-  Paris,  1675. 

*  Satyricon,  ed.  Kopp,  Francf.,  1836;  [Kyssenhardt,  Leijisic,  1866]. 

*  Ili.s  coninientaries  on  the  Aualylics,  the  Physics,  and  Psychology, 
etc.,  were  repeatedly  printed  during  the  sixteenth  century. 

*  A  statesman  who  \v;is  executed  in  the  reign  of  Theodoric,  525. 
Opera,  [Venice,  1491];  Bale,  1546,  1.570,  folio;  [also in  Migne's  coUeo 


200  PHILOSOPHY   OF   THE   MIDDLE   AGES 

ful  treatise  Be  consolatione  philosophioe,  which  breathes  the 
spirit  of  Epictetiis  and  Marcus  Aurelius ;  Cassiodorus,i 
another  Italian  (died  575),  published  the  treatise  De  arti- 
bus  ac  discijplinis  lihcralium  litterariC7n,  which  with  the 
Encyclopedia  of  Marcianus  Capella,  the  commentaries  of 
Boethius,  and  the  Isagoge  of  Porphyry,  formed  the  basis 
of  mediaeval  instruction.^  Let  us  also  mention  Isidore  of 
Seville  and  his  twenty  books  of  Etymologies ;  St.  John  of 
Damas,  a  celebrated  theologian  and  scholar  ;  and  Photius, 
the  Patriarch  of  Constantino|)le,  the  author  of  the  Bibliotheca 
or  Myriohilion,  a  kind  of  philosophical  anthology. 

It  is  evident,  literature  gradually  retires  within  the 
confines  of  the  Church.  In  the  West,  especially,  all  intel- 
lectual activity  centred  in  it.  But  the  smouldering  spark 
of  learned  culture  was  with  difficulty  kept  alive  in  the 
hearts  of  a  clergy  for  the  most  part  recruited  from  the 
barbarians.  The  times  were  steeped  in  ignorance.  The 
Latin  language,  wliich  the  Church  continued  to  use, 
formed  the  only  bond  of  union  between  the  classical  world 
and  the  new  generation.  At  a  time  when  brutal  passions 
raged,  when  the  secular  clergy  themselves  were  addicted 
to  a  vulgar  realism  and  showed  an  absolute  indifference  to 
spiritual  things,  the  convents  became  the  refuge  of  thought 
and  study.  Here,  the  mind,  elsewhere  distracted  by  ex- 
ternal things,  found  ample  opportunity  and  leisure  moments 
to  contemplate  itself  and  its  real  treasures.  Unable  as  yet 
to  produce  original  works  of  their  own,  the  monks  spent 

tion].     Gervaise,    Htsfoire   de    Boece,   se'nateur   romain,   Paris,    1715; 
[Prantl,  Geschichte  der  Logik,  I ,  pp.  679-722]. 

1  Opera  omnia,  [Paris.  1579];  Rouen,  1679;  Venice,  1726.  St. 
Marthe,  Vie  de  Cassiodore,  Paris,  1095. 

2  According  to  this  scheme  of  instruction,  there  are  seven  liberal 
arts,  three  of  which,  grammar,  rhetoric,  and  dialectics,  form  the 
trivium;  while  the  other  four,  m^^sic,  arithmetic,  geometry,  and 
astronomy  constitute  the  quadrivium.  There  is  a  threefold  and  a  four- 
fold path  leading  to  the  highest  science,  theology. 


SCHOLASTICISM  201 

their  time  in  copying  manuscripts,  and  to  their  zealous 
activity  we  owe  our  knowledge  of  quite  a  number  of 
ancient  masterpieces. 

But  they  did  more ;  they  founded  schools  and  instructed 
the  youth  (scliolce,  scholastici^  doctriaa  scholastica).  The 
monastic  schools  rivalled  the  cathedi-al  schools.  Great 
Britain  possessed  model  monasteries,  which  produced  such 
men  as  the  Venerable  Bede,^  Alcuin,^  a  pupil  of  the  school 
of  York,  who  became  the  counsellor  and  friend  of  Charle- 
magne, and  helped  to  found  the  Palatine  Academy  and  a 
great  number  of  cathedral  and  monastic  schools ;  finally 
and  above  all,  Scotus  Erigena,  the  first  and,  on  the  whole, 
most  profound  philosopher  of  tlie  Cluistian  Middle  Ages, 
the  founder  of  Scholasticism. 

The  fatherland  of  Scotus,  Occam,  and  the  two  Bacons, 
has  every  reason  to  boast  of  being  the  Ionia  of  modern 
philosophy. 

§   30.     Scholasticism  ^ 

As  the  sole  legatee  of  the  Roman  Empire,  the  Church 
is  the  predominant  power  of  the  jMiddle  Ages.  Out- 
side of  the  Church  there  can  be  no  salvation  and  no 
science.  The  dogmas  formulated  by  her  represent  the 
truth.  Hence,  the  problem  no  longer  is  to  search  for  it. 
The  Church  has  no  place  for  philosophy,  if  we  mean  by 
philosophy  the  pursuit  of  truth.    From  the  mediaeval  point 

i673-73o;  Opera,  Paris,  1521  f .  ;  Tmle,  1563;  Cologne,  1612. 
[A.  Giles,  The  Complete  Works  of  Venerable  Beila  (Latin),  12  vols., 
London,  1843-44.] 

2  726-801;  Opera,  Pari.s,  1617;  Patisb.,  ]77:5.  2  fol.  vols. 

8  [Con.sult  the  works  of  Ritter,  Kou.sselot,  Ilaiueau,  Stbckl,  etc., 
mentioned  on  page  10;  also  the  general  histories  of  philosophy  referred 
to  on  pages  13-16. —Th.]  Cousin,  Frnc/ments  philnsnphii/ues,  P/iilo- 
sophie  Kcolastique  ;  Itilrndnclion  to  Knno  Fischer's  Hlslor;/  of  Modern 
Philosophy;  [S.  Talamo,  L'ArisloteliKtno  nella  storia  ildia  Jilosojia,  3d 
ed.,  Siena,  1882;  French  trunsl.,  Paris,  1876.  —  Tr.] 


202  PHILOSOPHY   OF  THE   MIDDLE   AGES 

of  view,  to  philosophize  means  to  exphxin  the  dogma,  to 
deduce  its  consequences,  and  to  demonstrate  its  truth. 
Hence,  philosophy  is  identical  with  positive  theology; 
when  it  fails  to  be  that,  it  becomes  lieretical.  Christian 
thought  hemmed  in  by  the  law  of  the  Church  resembles  a 
river  confined  between  two  steep  banks ;  the  narrower  the 
bed,  the  deeper  the  stream.  Being  unable  to  escape  from 
the  dogma  encompassing  it,  it  endeavors  to  penetrate  it, 
and  eventually  undermines  it. 

Thus  the  philosophy  of  the  Christian  School,  Scholasti- 
cism, arises  and  gradually  gains  a  foothold.  Scotus  Eri- 
gena  is  its  founder;  St.  Anselmus,  Abelai'd,  St.  Thomas, 
and  Duns  Scotus,  are  its  most  distinguished  representa- 
tives. Scholasticism  is  modern  science  in  embryo ;  ^  the 
philosophy  of  the  Euro})ean  nations  developing  within  the 
mother  Church  in  the  form  of  theology.  It  is  not,  like 
the  speculation  of  the  Church  E'athers,  a  child  of  classical 
antiquity,  from  which  the  fall  of  the  Roman  world  sep- 
arates it.  It  springs  from  the  healthy  soil  of  the  Ger- 
manic and  Neo-Latin  world,  and  is  the  product  of  other 
races  and  a  new  civilization.^  France,  England,  Spain, 
Germany  :  Western  Europe,  in  a  word,  is  its  home.  It  has 
its  period  of  youth,  maturity,  and  decline.  Scholastic 
philosophy  is  at  first  influenced  by  Platonism  through  the 
mediation  of  St.  Augustine ;  from  the  thirteenth  century 
on,  it  gradually  suffers  the  influence  of  Aristotle's  philo- 
sophy. Hence,  we  notice  two  great  periods  in  the  history 
of  Scholasticism :  the  Platonic  period  and  the  Peripatetic 
period.  The  latter  divides  into  two  su]>periods,  of  which 
the  first  interprets  Aristotle  in  the  realistic  sense,  while 
the  second  conceives  him  as  a  nominalist.  From  the  four- 
teenth century  on.  Scholasticism  is  engaged  in  the  struggle 

^  Hegel,  Vorlesungen  iiber  die   Geschichte  der  Philosophie,   vol.  III., 
p.  118  ;  [vol.  XV.,  of  Complete  Works}. 
2  Id.,  p.  139. 


SCHOLASTICISM  203 

between  the  realists  and  nominalists^  and  towards  the 
midtlle  of  the  fifteenth  century,  it  succumbs  to  the  secu- 
lar and  liberal  reaction  inaugurated  by  the  Renaissance- 
After  that  it  ceases  to  be  a  great  intellectual  power,  and 
seeks  refuge,  body  and  soul,  within  the  pale  of  the  Church, 
of   which   it  is,  to  this  day,   the  official  philosophy.^ 

What  is  its  ruling  thought,  its  fundamental  doctrine  ? 
The  "  last  of  the  Scholastics,"  though  passing  over  the  Mid- 
dle Ages  with  "  seven-leagued  boots,"  ^  formulates  it  most 
aptly  in  the  following  words :  "  Philosophy  and  theology 
have  the  same  contents,  the  same  aim,  and  the  same  inter- 
ests. ...  In  explaining  religion,  pliilosophy  simply  explains 
itself,  and  in  explaining  itself  it  explains  religion."  ^  In- 
deed, this  principle  lies  at  the  root  of  all  its  systems.  The 
distinguishing  characteristic  of  the  period  upon  wliich  we 
are  now  entering  is,  that  it  reconciles  elements  previously 
and  subsequently  in  conflict  with  each  other.  An  alliance 
is  formed  between  pliilosophy  and  theology,  faith  and 
reason,  "grace"  and  "nature."  The  Latin  Fathers,  as 
well  as  the  free-thinkers  by  whom  modern  philosophy  was 
founded,  considered  these  two  spheres  as  antagonistic. 
The  Fathei-s  took  sides  with  "grace";  the  philosophers, 
with  "  nature  "  ;  while  in  the  judgment  of  the  Schoolmen, 
at  least  those  of  the  first  period,  there  can  be  no  contradic- 
tion between  the  revealed  dogma  and  natural  reason.  But 
inasmuch  as  doctrines  seemed  to  contradict  each  other  on 
many  points,  the  problem  became  to  reconcile  them,  to 
demonstrate  the   truth  of  the  dogma,    and  to    prove    that 

^  The  most  distinguished  among  its  post-Renaissance  representa- 
tives is  Francis  Suarez  of  Granada  (1518-1G17),  a  follower  of  Thomas 
of  Aquin  and  author  of  the  Dispulnliones  melaphysicce  (Paris,  1619), 
etc. 

2  Hegel,  Vorlesungen  iiber  die  Geschichle  der  Pkilosophie,  vol.  III., 
p.  00.     [Engl,  translation  by  Haldane,  vol.  III.,  p.  1.] 

8  Vorlesungen  iifjcr  die  Philosophie  der  Religion,  vol.  I.,  p.  5  ;  [vol 
XI.,  Complete  Woiks.'j 


204  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE   MIDDLE   AGES 

ecclesiastical  Christianity  is  a  rational  religion.  To  ren- 
der the  dogma  acceptable  to  reason,  says  an  eminent 
follower  of  the  pliilosopher  just  quoted,^  that  is  the  pro- 
gram of  Scholasticism.  The  dogma  affirms:  Deus  homo; 
Scholasticism  asks  :  Cur  Deus  liorno  ?  In  order  to  answer 
this  question,  theology  forms  an  alliance  with  pliilosophy ; 
faith,  with  science.  This  alliance  constitutes  the  very 
essence  of  Scholasticism.  The  latter  is  a  compromise 
between  philosophy  and  faith.  Indeed,  Scholasticism 
declines  as  soon  as  the  nominalistic  doctors,  on  the  one 
hand,  and  the  humanists,  on  the  other,  recognize  the 
necessity  of  separating  the  two  domains. 

§  31.     Scotus  Erigena 

The  fu'st  great  Schoolman,  John  Scotus  Erigena,  a 
native  of  Ireland,  was  invited  to  take  charge  of  the  Pala- 
tine Academy  by  Charles  the  Bald,  about  the  middle  of  the 
ninth  century.  His  treatise,  De  divina  prcedestinatione, 
which  he  wrote  against  the  heresy  of  Gottschalk,  and  his 
Latin  translation  of  Dionysius  the  Areopagite,  which  he 
failed  to  submit  to  the  Pope  for  approval,  alienated  from 
him  the  sympathies  of  the  Church.  He  continued  to  enjoy, 
however,  the  protection  of  the  Emperor.  The  date  of  his 
death  is  as  uncertain  as  the  date  of  his  birth. 

Scotus  resembles  Origen  in  breadth  of  mind,  and  is 
much  superior  to  his  times.  He  suffered  the  same  fate : 
the  disfavor  of  the  Church,  which  failed  to  canonize  him. 
His  learning,  however,  rises  far  beyond  the  scientific 
level  of  the  Carlovingian  epoch.  Besides  Latin,  he  knew 
Greek  and  perhaps  also  Arabic.  In  addition  to  his  knowl- 
edge of  the  Greek  Fathers  and  Neo-Platonism,  he  possessed 
wonderful  powers  of  speculation  and  boldness  of  judgment. 
He  stands  out  like  a  high  volcano  on  a  perfectly  level 

1  K.  Fischer,  op.  cit.,  vol.  I.,  1,  ch.  IV. 


SCOTUS  ERIGENA  205 

plane.  His  philosophy,  as  set  forth  in  the  De  divisione 
naturce}  is  not,  indeed,  an  innovation  on  the  Neo-Platonic 
doctrines.  Like  the  Pseudo-Dionysius,  the  Areopagite,  it 
reproduces  the  system  of  emanation  of  the  Alexandrine 
school  in  Christian  form.  But  it  was  almost  a  miracle  for 
any  one  living  in  the  ninth  century  and  on  this  side  of  the 
Pyrenees  to  understand  Plotinus  and  Proclus. 

The  object  of  philosophy  is,  according  to  Scotus,  identi- 
cal with  that  of  religion.^  Philosophy  is  the  science  of  the 
faith,  the  understanding  of  the  dogma.  Speculation  and 
reliarion  have  the  same  divine  content  and  differ  in  form 
only.  Religion  worships  and  adores,  while  philosophy 
studies,  discusses,  and  with  the  aid  of  reason  explains 
the  object  which  religion  adores :  God  or  uncreated  and 
creative  Nature. 

In  its  broadest  sense,  the  word  nature  comprises  all 
beings,  both  uncreated  and  created  tilings.  Nature  thus 
interpreted  embraces  four  categories  of  existence  :  (1)  that 
which  is  uncreated  and  creates ;  (2)  that  which  is  created 
and  creates ;  (3)  that  which  is  created  and  does  not  create ; 
(4)  that,  which  is  uncreated  and  does  not  create.  Exist- 
ence is  possible  only  in  these  four  forms. 

This  classilication  may,  however,  be  simplified.  'J^he 
first  class  is,  in  fact,  the  same  as  the  fourth,  for  both  of 
them  contain  that  wliich  is  uncreated,  and  consequently 
correspond  to  the  only  being  existing  in  the  absolute  sense 
of  the  word,  to  God.  Tlie  first  class  embraces  God  in  so 
far  as  he  is  the  creative  principle,  the  beginning  or  the 

1  Edited  l)y  Thomas  Gale,  Oxford,  1G81  ;  Schliiter,  Minister,  1838; 
H.  J.  Floss,  Paris,  1858  [in  vol.  122  of  Migiie's  collection,  which  con- 
tains also  the  treatise  De  ilirina  prfrdextinatione  and  the  translation 
of  Dionysius]  ;  St.  Rene  Taillandicr,  Scnl  Eriffhie  el  la  philosophie 
scolasdque,  Strasburg,  184;5 ;  [Iliiber,  Jolainnes  Scotus  Erigena,  etc., 
Munich,  1801]. 

*  De  divinn  proedestinatione.  I'rodiuinin  {\n  (WWn-ri  ISIauguin, /1mc<. 
qui  nono  saec.  de  pi  fed.  et  yral.  scripscrunt  <tj)era,  Paris,  18."iO). 


206  PHILOSOPHY   OF  THE   MIDDLE  AGES 

source  of  things ;  the  fourth  also  contains  God,  but  only  in 
so  far  as  he  is  the  end,  the  consummation,  and  the  highest 
perfection  of  things.  We  also  hnd,  upon  comparing  the 
second  and  the  third  classes,  that  they  form  a  single  class 
containing  all  created  things,  or  the  universe,  in  so  far  as 
this  is  tUstinct  from  God.  The  Idea-types,  which  are  real- 
ized in  individuals,  are  productive  created  beings  (the 
second  class). ^  Individuals  are  created  and  non-productive 
things ;  for  types  or  species,  not  intlividuals,  possess  the 
power  of  reproduction.  Hence,  we  have  left  two  classes  in 
place  of  the  four  original  ones :  God  and  the  universe. 

But  these  two  categories  or  modes  of  existence  are  also 
identical.^  In  fact,  the  world  is  in  God,  and  God  is  in  it 
as  its  essence,  its  soul,  its  life.  Whatever  living  force, 
light,  and  intelligence  the  world  contains,  is  God,  who  is 
immanent  in  the  cosmos ;  and  the  latter  exists  only  in  so 
far  as  it  participates  in  the  divine  being.  God  is  the  sum- 
total  of  being  without  division,  limit,  or  measure  j  the  world 
is  divided  and  limited  being.  _  God  is  unexplicated  being  ; 
the  world  is  explicated,  revealed,  manifested  (^Beot^dvaa) 
being ;  God  and  the  universe  are  one  and  the  same  being, 
two  different  modes  or  forms  of  the  only  infinite  being  ;  or 
rather,  the  world  alone  is  a  mode  of  being,  a  modification, 
aiid  limitation  of  being,  while  God  is  being  without  mode 
of  being  or  any  determination.^ 

Scotus  derives  the  word  ^eo?  either  from  Oewpw^  video,  or 
from  ^e&),  curro.^  According  to  the  former  etymology,  it 
means  absolute  vision  or  intelligence ;  according  to  the 
latter,  eternal  movement.  But  both  meanings  are  merely 
figurative.     For,  since  God  is  the  being  by  the  side  of 

^  De  dlvisione  natures,  II.,  2. 

2  Id.,  IIL,  22. 

'  De  divisione  naturce.  III.,  10 :  God  is  everything,  and  everything 
is  God;  III.,  17-18:  Hence  we  should  not  consider  God  and  the 
creature  as  a  duality,  but  as  one  and  the  same  being ;  of.  22-23. 

*  Id.,  L,  14. 


SCOTUS  ERIGENA  207 

whom  or  in  whom  there  is  no  other  being,  we  cannot, 
strictly  speaking,  say  that  God  sees  or  comprehends  any- 
thing. And  as  far  as  divine  movement  is  concerned,  we 
may  say  that  it  in  no  wise  resembles  the  locomotion  pecu- 
liar to  creatm-es ;  it  proceeds  from  God,  in  God,  towards 
God ;  that  is,  it  is  synonymous  with  absolute  rest.  Since 
God  is  superior  to  all  differences  and  all  contrasts,  he  can- 
not be  designated  by  any  term  implying  an  opposite.  We 
call  him  good,  but  incorrectly,  since  the  difference  between 
good  and  evil  does  not  exist  in  him  {v7r€pdjado<i  plus  quam 
bonus  est  ^).  We  call  him  God,  but  we  have  just  seen  that 
the  expression  is  inadequate.  We  call  him  Truth;  but 
truth  is  opposed  to  error,  and  there  is  no  such  antithesis  in 
the  Infinite  Being.  We  call  him  the  Eternal  One,  Life, 
Light ;  but  since  the  difference  between  eternity  and  time, 
life  and  death,  light  and  its  opposite,  does  not  exist  in  God, 
these  terms  are  inexact.  No  term,  not  even  the  term  heing^ 
will  do  him  justice,  for  being  is  o^Dposed  to  non-being. 
Hence  God  is  indefinable  as  well  as  incomprehensible.  He 
is  higher  than  goodness,  higher  than  truth,  liigher  than 
eternity ;  he  is  more  than  life,  more  than  light,  more  than 
God  (y7rep6eo<;),  more  than  being  itself  (yirepovaio^^  super- 
essentialis).  None  of  the  categories  of  Aristotle  can  com- 
prehend him,  and  inasmuch  as  to  comprehend  means  to 
bring  an  object  under  a  class,  God  himself  cannot  be 
comprehended.  He  is  the  absolute  nothing,  the  eternal 
Mystery.^ 

Tlie  innermost  essence  of  tlie  human  soul  is  as  mysterious 
and  impenetrable  as  God,  since  tliis  essence  is  God  himself.^ 
All  that  we  know  of  it  is  tliat  it  is  movement  and  life,  and 
that  this  movement,  this  life,  lias  three  degrees :  sensation, 
intelligence,  and  reason:  the  Imman  image  of  the  divine 
Trinity.    The  body  was  created  with  the  soul ;  but  it  has 

*  Dh  divisione  nnlurcn,  I.,  14. 

2  Id.,  L,1(J;  in.,!'.).  8  Id.,  I.,  78. 


208  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

fallen  from  its  ideal  beauty  in  consequence  of  sin.  This 
beauty,  wliich  is  latent  in  tlie  actual  organism,  will  not 
manifest  itself  in  its  purity  except  in  the  life  to  come. 
Man  is  an  epitome  of  all  terrestrial  and  celestial  creatures. 
He  is  the  world  in  miniature,  and  as  such  the  lord  of  cre- 
ation. He  differs  from  the  angels  only  in  sin,  and  raises 
himself  to  the  level  of  divine  being  by  penitence.  Sin 
belongs  to  the  corporeal  nature  of  man ;  it  is  the  necessary 
effect  of  the  preponderance  of  the  senses  over  the  intel- 
lectual life  in  process  of  development. 

The  fall  of  man  is  not  only  the  consequence,  but  also 
the  cause  of  his  corporeal  existence.  The  imperfections 
and  the  diseases  of  his  actual  body,  his  dull  materiality, 
the  antagonism  between  the  flesh  and  the  spirit,  the  differ- 
ence of  the  sexes,  all  these  things  in  themselves  constitute 
sin,  fall,  separation  from  God,  the  dismemberment  of  the 
universal  unity.i  On  the  other  hand,  since  there  is  no  real 
being  outside  of  God,  what  we  call  separation  from  God, 
fall  or  sin,  is  but  a  negative  reality,  a  defect  or  privation. 
Evil  has  no  substantial  existence.  A  thing  has  real  exist- 
ence only  in  so  far  as  it  is  good,  and  its  excellence  is  the 
measure  of  its  reality.  Perfection  and  reality  are  synonyms. 
Hence  absolute  imperfection  is  synonymous  with  absolute 
non-reality;  which  implies  the  impossibility  of  the  exist- 
ence of  a  personal  Devil,  that  is,  an  absolutely  wicked 
being.  Evil  is  the  absence  of  good,  life,  and  being.  De- 
prive a  being  of  everything  good  in  it,  and  you  annihi- 
late it.2 

Creation  is  an  eternal  and  continuous  act,  an  act  without 
beginning  or  end.  God  precedes  the  world  in  dignity,  not 
in  time.3  God  is  absolutely  eternal ;  the  world  is  relatively 
so.  It  emanates  from  God  as  the  light  emanates  from  the 
aun,  or  heat  from  fire.     In  the  case  of  God,  to  think  is  to 

1  Cf.  §§  10,  16,  25,  68. 

2  De  divisinne  natura,  TTT.,  1,  4.  ^  Id.,  III.,  8. 


SCOTUS  ERIGENA  209 

create  (videt  operando  etvidendo  opcratitr'^)^  and  his  creative 
activity  is,  like  his  thought,  without  beginning.  Every 
creature  is  virtually  eternal ;  our  entire  being  is  rooted  in 
eternity ;  we  have  all  pre-existed  from  eternity  in  the  in- 
finite series  of  causes  which  have  produced  us.  God  alone 
is  eternal  actu  ;  he  alone  never  existed  as  a  simple  germ. 
The  notliingness  from  which  the  world  is  derived,  accord- 
ing to  Scripture,  is  not  equal  to  0  ;  it  is  the  ineffable  and 
incomprehensible  beauty  of  the  divine  nature,  the  supra- 
essential  and  supernatural  essence  of  God,  inaccessible  to 
thoucjht  and  unknown  even  to  the  ano-els.^ 

The  genera,  species,  and  individuals  are  evolved  in  suc- 
cession from  the  Infinite  Being.  Creation  consists  in  this 
eternal  analysis  of  the  general.  Being  is  the  highest  gen- 
erality. From  being,  wliich  is  common  to  all  creatures, 
life,  wliich  belongs  ordj  to  organized  beings,  is  separated 
as  a  special  principle.  Reason  springs  from  life  and  em- 
braces a  still  narrower  class  of  beings  (men  and  angels) ; 
finally,  from  reason  are  derived  wisdom  and  science,  which 
belong  to  the  smallest  number.  Creation  is  a  harmonious 
sum  of  concentric  circles ;  we  have  constant  crossings  be- 
tween the  di%'ine  essence,  wliich  overflows,  expands,  and 
unfolds,  and  the  world  or  the  periphery,  which  strives  to 
return  to  God  and  to  be  merged  in  him.-^  The  aim  of 
human  science  is  to  know  exactly  how  things  spring 
from  the  first  causes,  and  how  they  are  divided  and  sub- 
divided into  species  and  genera.  Science  in  this  sense  is 
called  dialectics,'*  and  may  be  divided  into  physics  and 
ethics.  True  dialectics  is  not,  like  that  of  the  Sophists,  the 
product  of  human  imagination  or  capricious  reason ;  the 
autlior  of  all  sciences  and  all  arts  has  grounded  it  on  the 
very  nature  of  things.  Tlirough  knoAvledge  and  wisdom,  its 
culmination,  tlie  human   soul  rises  above  nature  and  be- 

1  De  divisione  naturce,  III.,  17  ff.  2  7,/^  uf.,  ij). 

8  Id.,  I.,  10.  ■•   Id.,  I.,  2!»,  KJ;  V-,4. 

14 


210  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

comes  identified  with  God.  This  return  to  God  is  effected, 
for  nature  in  general,  in  man ;  for  man,  in  Christ  and  the 
Christian ;  for  the  Christian,  in  his  supernatural  and  essen- 
tial union  with  God  through  the  spirit  of  wisdom  and  sci- 
ence. Just  as  everything  comes  from  God,  everything  is 
destined  to  return  to  God.  Scotus  teaches  predestination, 
i.  e.,  universal  predestination  for  salvation.  All  fallen  an- 
gels, all  fallen  men,  all  beings,  in  a  word,  will  return  to  God. 
The  punishments  of  hell  are  purely  spiritual.  There  is  no 
other  recompense  for  virtue  than  the  vision  or  immediate 
knowledge  of  God,  no  other  pain  for  sin  than  remorse. 
Punishments  have  nothing  arbitrary  in  them;  they  are 
the  natural  consequences  of  the  acts  condemned  by  the 
divine  law.^ 

§  32.     St.  Anselm 

Scotus  Erigena  went  out  like  a  meteor  on  a  dark  night. 
While  the  Arabian  schools  ^  were  continuing  the  jjhilo- 

^  De  div.  prcedestinatione,  2-4:. 

2  Tlie  most  celebrated  schools  in  the  Orient  were  :  Bagdad,  Bas- 
sora,  Bokhara,  Konf a ;  in  Spain  :  Cordova,  Granada,  Toledo,  Sevilla, 
Murcia,  Valencia,  Almeria,  etc.  The  Arabians  are  apt  pupils  of  the 
Greeks,  Persians,  and  Hindoos  in  science.  Their  philosophy  is  the 
continuation  of  Peripateticisni  and  Neo-Platonisra.  It  is  more  learned 
than  original,  and  consists  mainly  of  exegesis,  particularly  of  the 
exegesis  of  Aristotle's  system,  the  strict  monotheism  of  which  recom- 
mended it  to  the  disciples  of  Islam.  The  leaders  of  Arabian  thought 
are,  in  Asia  :  Alkendi  of  Bassora,  a  contemporary  of  Scotus  Erigena ; 
Alfarabi  of  Bagdad  (same  century),  among  other  things  the  author  of 
an  Encyclopedia,  which  the  Christian  Schoolmen  valued  very  highly; 
Avicenna  (Ibn-Sina  died  at  Ispahan,  1036),  celebrated  in  Em-ope  as 
a  physician  and  learned  interpreter  of  Aristotle  ;  Algazel  of  Bagdad 
(died  1111),  a  sceptical  philosopher  and  orthodox  Mussulman;  in 
Spain:  Avempace  (Ibn-Badja)  of  Saragossa,  died  1138,  Ibn- Top- 
hail  of  Cadiz  (1100-1185),  Averroes  (Ibn-Pvoschd)  of  Cordova,  the 
"commentator  of  commentators"  (1126-1198),  all  of  them  learned 
physicians,  mathematicians,  philosophers,  and  fruitful  writers.  After 
the  days  of  Averroes,  Arabian  philosophy  rapidly  declined,  never  to 


ST.  ANSELM  211 

sophical  and  scientific  traditions  of  Greece  and  the  Orient 
with  credit  to  themselves,  the  alliance  between  reason  and 
faith  had  only  a  few  isolated  representatives  in  Cluistian 
Europe  during  the  tenth  and  eleventh  centuries,  viz. :  Ger- 
bert  1  (Sylvester  II.),  who  is  indebted  for  his  knowledge  to 
the  Arabians  ;  Berengar  of  Tours  ;  ^  Lanfranc  ;  ^  and  Hil- 
debert  of  Lavardin,  Bishop  of  Tours,  the  author  of  a  treatise 
on  morals.*  The  great  questions  which  occupied  the  mind 
of  Scotus  no  lono-er  interested  them.  These  subtle  reasoners 
spent  their  time  in  discussing  the  most  trivial  subjects  and 
the  most  childish  problems :  Can  a  prostitute  again  become 
a  virgin  through  the  divine  omnipotence  ?  Does  the  mouse 
that  eats  the  consecrated  host  eat  the  body  of  the  Lord? 
Christian  pliilosophy  is  still  in  its  infancy,  and  therefore 
delights  in  such  childish  sports.  But  these  sports  are  sig- 
niticant  preludes  to  the  combats  which  the  future  has  in 
store. 

The  first  really  speculative  thinker  after  Scotus  is  St. 
Anselm,^  the  disciple  of  Lanfranc.     He  was  born  at  Aosta 

rise  again,  but  it  left  its  impress  on  Jewish  thought  (Avicehron  or 
Ibn-Gebirol,  eleventh  century,  the  author  of  the  Fountain  of  Life ;  Closes 
]\Iaiinonides,  1135-1204,  the  still  more  noted  author  of  the  Guide  to  the 
Mii^guided,  etc.),  and  through  the  latter  on  Christian  thought.  See 
[Schnicilders,  Docuwiew^a  pJdlnsophire  Arabum,  Bonn,  1886];  same  au- 
thor, Essai  sur  les  ecoles  philosophiqiieit  chez  les  Arahea,  Paris,  1842; 
[Ilammer-Purgstall,  Geschichte  der  arabischen  Litteralur,  vols.  I.-YII., 
Vienna,  1850-56];  Munck,  Melanges  de  philosophic  juire  ef  arabe,  I'aris, 
18.50;  Kenan,  Averroeset  PAverroisme,  8d  ed.,  Paris,  1860;  [F.  Dieterici, 
Die  Philosnphie  der  Araber  im  10.  Jahrhundert.  8  pts.,  Loipsic,  1865-76; 
M.  Eisler,  Vorlesnngen  iiber  die  Judische  J'hilosopliie  des  Afiftelalters,  3 
vols.,  Vienna,  1870-84  ;  i\I.  Joel,  Beilrdge  zur  Geschichte  der  Pliilosophie, 
2  vols.,  Breslau,  1876.  —  Tr.]. 

1  Died  1003. 

2  Died  1088.     De  sacra  ccena  adversus  iMnfr.,  Berlin,  1844. 
»  Died,  1089.     Opera,  ed.  Ciiles,  Oxford,  1854. 

*  1>1(m1  1134.     Opera,    '\.  Beaugendre. 

'  Opera,  Xurciiilicrg,  etc,  1401  ff.  ;  also  in  vol.  155  of  Migne's  col- 


212  PHILOSOPHY   OF  THE   MIDDLE  AGES 

(1033),  entered  the  monastery  of  Bee  in  Normandy  (1060), 
succeeded  Lanfranc  as  Abbot  (1078),  and  as  Archbishop 
of  Canterbury  (1093).  lie  died  in  1109.  He  left  a  great 
number  of  writings,  tlie  most  important  of  which  are :  the 
Dialogus  de  (jravimatico,  the  Monolorjium  de  dlvinitatis  essen- 
tia sive  Uxemplum  de  ratione  fidei,i\\Q  Proslogium  sive  Fides 
qucerens  intellectum,  the  Be  veritate,  the  Be  fide  trinitatis, 
and  the  C^ir  Bens  liomo  ? 

The  second  Augustine,  as  St.  Ansehn  has  been  called, 
starts  out  from  the  same  principle  as  the  first ;  he  holds 
that  faith  precedes  all  reflection  and  all  discussion  con- 
cerning religious  things.  The  unbelievers,  he  says,^  strive 
to  understand  because  they  do  not  believe;  we,  on  the 
contrary,  strive  to  understand  because  we  believe.  They 
and  we  have  the  same  object  in  view  ;  but  inasmuch  as  they 
do  not  believe,  they  cannot  arrive  at  their  goal,  which  is  to 
understand  the  dogma.  The  unbeliever  will  never  under- 
stand. In  religion  faith  plays  the  part  played  by  experi- 
ence in  the  understanding  of  the  things  of  this  world.  The 
blind  man  cannot  see  the  light,  and  therefore  does  not 
understand  it;  the  deaf-mute,  who  has  never  perceived 
sound,  cannot  have  a  clear  idea  of  sound.  Similarly,  not 
to  believe  means  not  to  perceive,  and  not  to  perceive  means 
not  to  understand.  Hence,  we  do  not  reflect  in  order  that 
we  may  believe ;  on  the  contrary,  we  believe  in  order  that 
we  may  arrive  at  knowledge.  A  Christian  ought  never  to 
doubt  the  beliefs  and  teachings  of  the  Holy  Catholic 
Church.  All  he  can  do  is  to  strive,  as  humbly  as  possible, 
to  understand  her  teachings  by  believing  them,  to  love 
them,  and  resolutely  to  observe  them  in  his  daily  life. 

lection,  Paris,  1852-54  ;  [Hasse,  Ansehn  von  Canterhimj,  2  pts.,  Leipsic, 
1843-52]  ;  Charles  de  Remusat,  Ayiaelme  de  Cantorhery,  tahJeau  de  la  vie 
monastique,  etc.,  Paris,  1854 ;  2cl  ed.,  1868 ;  [Shedd,  History  of  Christian 
Doctrine,  vol.  II.,  New  York,  1864]. 
^  Cur  Deus  homo  ?  I.,  2. 


ST.   AXSELM  213 

Should  he  succeed  in  understanding  the  Clmstian  doc- 
trine, let  him  render  thanks  to  God,  the  source  of  all  intel- 
ligence !  In  case  lie  fails,  that  is  no  reason  why  he  should 
obstinately  attack  the  dogma,  but  a  reason  why  he  should 
bow  his  head  in  worship.  Faith  ought  not  merely  to  be 
the  starting-point,  —  the  Christian's  aim  is  not  to  depart 
from  faith  but  to  remain  in  it,  —  but  also  the  fixed  rule 
and  goal  of  thought,  the  beginning,  the  middle,  and  the 
end  of  all  philosophy. i 

The  above  almost  literal  quotations  might  give  one  the 
impression  that  St.  Anselm  belongs  exclusively  to  the 
Ihstory  of  theology.  Such  is  not  the  case,  however.  This 
fervent  Catholic  is  more  independent,  more  of  an  investi- 
gator and  philosopher  than  he  himself  imagines.  He  is  a 
typical  scholastic  doctor  and  a  fine  exponent  of  the  alliance 
between  reason  and  faith  which  forms  the  characteristic 
trait  of  mediieval  philosophy.  He  assumes,  a  priori,  that 
revelation  and  reason  are  in  perfect  accord.  These  two 
manifestations  of  one  and  the  same  Supreme  Intelligence 
cannot  possibly  contradict  each  other.  Hence,  his  point  of 
view  is  chametrically  opposed  to  the  credo  quia  ahsurdum. 
Moreover,  he  too  had  been  besieged  by  doubt.  Indeed, 
the  extreme  ardor  which  impels  him  to  search  ever}- where 
for  arguments  favorable  to  tlie  dogma,  is  a  confession  on 
his  part  that  the  dogma  needs  support,  that  it  is  debatable, 
that  it  lacks  self-evidence,  the  criterion  of  truth.  Even  as 
a  monk,  it  was  liis  cliief  concern  to  find  a  simple  and  con- 
clusive argument  in  support  of  the  existence  of  God  and  of 
all  the  doctrines  of  the  Church  concerning  the  Supreme 
Being.  Mere  affmnation  did  not  satisfy  him ;  he  demanded 
proofs.  This  thought  was  continually  before  his  mind  ;  it 
c;iused  him  to  forget  his  meals,  and  pursued  him  even 
(hiring  the  solemn  moments  of  worsliii^.  He  comes  to  the 
conclusion  tliat  it  is  a  temptation  of  Satan,  and  seeks  dellv 

^  De  fide  Irinilatis ;  cf.  Monoloijium,  Pifliice. 


214  PHILOSOPHY   OF   THE   MIDDLE   AGES 

erance  from  it.  But  in  vain.  After  a  night  spent  in  medi- 
tation, he  at  last  discovers  what  he  has  been  seeking  for 
years  :  the  incontrovertible  argument  in  favor  of  the  Chris- 
tian dogma,  and  he  regards  himself  as  fortunate  in  having 
found,  not  only  the  proof  of  the  existence  of  God,  but  his 
peace  of  soul.  His  demonstrations  are  like  the  premises  of 
modern  rationalism. 

Everything  that  exists,  he  says,i  has  its  cause,  and  this 
cause  may  be  one  or  many.  If  it  is  one,  then  we  have 
what  we  are  looking  for :  God,  the  unitary  being  to  whom 
all  other  beings  owe  their  origin.  If  it  is  manifold,  there 
are  tlii-ee  possibilities :  (1)  The  manifold  may  depend  on 
unity  as  its  cause;  or  (2)  Each  thing  composing  the 
manifold  may  be  self-caused ;  or  (3)  Each  thing  may  owe 
its  existence  to  all  the  other  things.  The  fii'st  case  is 
identical  with  the  hypothesis  that  everytliing  proceeds 
from  a  single  cause ;  for  to  depend  on  several  causes,  all 
of  which  depend  on  a  single  cause,  means  to  depend  on 
this  single  cause.  In  the  second  case,  we  must  assume 
that  there  is  a  power,  force,  or  faculty  of  self-existence 
common  to  all  the  particular  causes  assumed  by  the 
hypothesis  ;  a  power  in  which  all  participate  and  are  com- 
prised. But  that  would  give  us  what  we  had  in  the  first 
case,  an  absolute  unitary  cause.  The  third  supposition, 
which  makes  each  of  the  "  first  causes  "  depend  on  all  the 
rest,  is  absurd ;  for  we  cannot  hold  that  a  thing  has  for  its 
cause  and  condition  of  existence  a  thing  of  vfhich  it  is 
itself  the  cause  and  condition.  Hence  we  are  compelled 
to  believe  in  a  being  which  is  the  cause  of  every  existing 
thing,  without  being  caused  by  anything  itself,  and  which 
for  that  very  reason  is  infinitely  more  perfect  than  anything 
else :  it  is  the  most  real  {ens  rcalissiinum),  most  powerful, 
and  best  being.  Since  it  does  not  depend  on  any  being  or 
on  any  condition  of  existence  other  than  itself,  it  is  a  se 
1  Monologium,  c.  3. 


ST.  ANSELM  215 

and  x>^r  se  ;  it  exists,  not  because  something  else  exists,  but 
it  exists  because  it  exists  j  tliat  is,  it  exists  necessarily,  it 
is  necessary  being.^ 

It  would  be  an  easy  matter  to  deduce  pantheism  from 
the  arguments  of  the  Ilonologium.  Anselm,  it  is  true, 
protests  against  such  an  interpretation  of  his  theology. 
With  St.  Augustine  he  assumes  that  the  world  is  created 
ex  nihilo.  But  though  accepting  this  teaching,  he  modi- 
fies it.  Before  the  creation,  he  says,  things  did  not  exist 
hi/  themselves,  independently  of  God;  hence  we  say  they 
were  derived  from  non-being.  But  they  existed  eternally 
for  God  and  in  God,  as  ideas  ;  they  existed  before  their  cre- 
ation, in  the  sense  that  the  Creator  foresaw  them  and  pre- 
destined them  for  existence.^ 

The  existence  of  God,  the  unitary  and  absolute  cause  of 
the  world,  being  proved,  the  question  is  to  determine  his 
nature  and  attributes.  God's  perfections  are  like  human 
perfections;  with  this  difference,  however,  that  they  are 
essential  to  him,  which  is  not  the  case  with  us.  Man  has 
received  a  share  of  certain  perfections,  but  there  is  no 
necessary  correlation  between  him  and  these  perfections ; 
it  wouhl  have  been  possible  for  him  not  to  receive  them ; 
he  could  have  existed  without  them.  God,  on  the  con- 
trary, does  not  get  his  perfections  from  without ;  he  has 
not  received  them,  and  we  cannot  say  that  he  has  them ; 
he  is  and  must  be  everything  that  these  perfections  imply ; 
his  attributes  are  identical  with  his  essence.  Justice,  an 
attribute  of  God,  and  God. are  not  two  separate  things. 
We  cannot  say  of  God  that  he  has  justice  or  goodness  ; 
we  cannot  even  say  that  lie  is  just ;  for  to  be  just  is  to 
participate  in  justice  after  the  manner  of  creatures.  God  is 
jutsice  as  sucli,  goodness  as  such,  wisdom  as  such,  happiness 
as  such,  truth  as  such,  being  as  such.  Moreover,  all  of 
God's  attril)utes  constitute  ])ut  a  single  attribute,  by  virtue 
*  Moiiolnnuim,  c.  3.  ^'/'j  c.  9. 


216  PHILOSOPHY   OF  THE   MIDDLE  AGES 

of  the  unity  of  his  essence  (unum  est  quidquid  essentialiter 
de  summa  substantia  dicitur^). 

All  this  is  pure  Platonism.  But,  not  content  with  spirit- 
ualizing theism,  Anselni  really  discredits  it  when,  like  a 
new  Carneades,  he  enumerates  the  difficulties  which  he  finds 
in  the  conception.  God  is  a  simple  being  and  at  the  same 
time  eternal,  that  is,  diffused  over  infinite  points  of  time  \ 
he  is  omnipresent,  that  is,  distributed  over  all  points  of 
space.  Shall  we  say  tliat  God  is  omnipresent  and  eternal  ? 
This  proposition  contradicts  the  notion  of  the  simplicity  of 
the  divine  essence.  Shall  we  say  that  he  is  nowhere  in 
space  and  nowhere  in  time  ?  But  that  would  be  equiva- 
lent to  denying  his  existence.  Let  us  therefore  reconcile 
these  two  extremes  and  say  that  God  is  omnipresent  and 
eternal,  without  being  limited  b}"  space  or  time.  The  fol- 
lowing is  an  equall}'  serious  difficulty  :  In  God  there  is  no 
change  and  consequently  nothing  accidental.  Now,  there 
is  no  substance  without  accidents.  Hence  God  is  not  a 
substance;  he  transcends  all  substance.  Anselm  is 
alarmed  at  these  dangerous  consequences  of  his  logic,  and 
he  therefore  prudently  adds  that,  though  the  term  "  sub- 
stance "  may  be  incorrect,  it  is,  nevertheless,  the  best  we 
can  apply  to  God  —  si  quid  digne  did  potest  —  and  that  to 
avoid  or  condemn  it  might  perhaps  jeopardize  our  faith  in 
the  reality  of  the  Divine  Being. 

The  most  formidable  theological  antinomy  is  the  doc- 
trine of  the  trinity  of  persons  in  the  unity  of  the  divine 
essence.^  The  Word  is  the  object  of  eternal  thought ;  it 
is  God  in  so  far  as  he  is  thought,  conceived,  or  compre- 
hended by  himself.  The  Holy  Spirit  is  the  love  of  God 
for  the  Word,  and  of  the  Word  for  God,  the  love  which 
God  bears  himself.  But  is  this  explanation  satisfactory  ? 
And  does  it  not  sacrifice  the  dogma  which  it  professes  to 
explain  to  the  conception  of  unity?  St.  Anselm  sees  in 
1  Monologium,  c.  17.  2  /j.^  c.  38  ff. 


ST.   ANSELM  217 

tlie  Trinity  and  the  notion  of  God  insurmountable  difficul- 
ties and  contradictions,  vrhich  the  human  mind  cannot 
reconcile.  In  his  discouragement  he  is  obliged  to  confess, 
with  Scotus  Erigena,  St.  Augustine,  and  the  Neo-Platon- 
ists,  that  no  human  ^^■ord  can  adequately  express  the 
essence  of  the  All-High.  Even  the  Avords  "-Avisdom" 
(^sapientia^  and  "■being"  (essentia^  are  but  imperfect  ex- 
pressions of  what  he  imagines  to  be  the  essence  of  God. 
All  theological  phrases  are  analogies,  figures  of  speech,  and 
mere  approximations.^ 

The  Proslogium  sive  Fides  quoerens  intellectum  has  the 
same  aim  as  the  Monologium :  to  prove  the  existence  of 
God.  Our  author  draws  the  elements  of  his  argument 
from  St.  Augustine  and  Platonism.  He  sets  out  from  the 
idea  of  a  perfect  being,  from  which  he  infers  the  existence 
of  such  a  being.  We  have  in  ourselves,  he  saj-s,  the  idea 
of  an  absolutely  perfect  being.  Now,  perfection  implies 
existence.  Hence  God  exists.  This  argument,  which  has 
been  termed  the  ontolofjical  ((rt/wiucnt,  found  an  opponent 
worthy  of  Anselm  in  Gaunilo,  a  monk  of  Marmoutiers 
in  Touraine.2  Gaunilo  emphasizes  the  difference  between 
thought  and  being,  and  points  out  the  fact  that  we  may  con- 
ceive and  imagine  a  being,  and  yet  that  being  may  not  exist. 
We  have  as  much  right  to  conclude  from  our  idea  of  an 
enchanted  island  in  the  middle  of  the  ocean  tliat  such  an 
island  actually  exists.  The  criticism  is  just.  Indeed,  the 
ontological  argument  would  be  conclusiA^e,  only  in  case 
the  idea  of  God  and  the  existence  of  God  in  the  luiman 
mind  were  identical.  If  our  idea  of  God  is  God  himself, 
it  is  evident  that  this  idea  is  tlie  immediate  and  incon- 
trovertible proof  of  the  existence  of  God.     liut  wliat  the 

'  Monuloffium,  c.  05. 

"^  (jauiiilo's  refutation  of  tho  ontological  proof  is  fouiid  in  iho 
works  of  Anselm  under  the  title:  Liber  pro  insipleitte  adcemus  S 
J^nxfiJini  in  Proslo'jii)  ruliuvitiuliuncm. 


218  PHILOSOPHY   OF  THE   MIDDLE  AGES 

theologian  aims  to  prove  is  not  the  existence  of  the  God- 
Idea  of  Plato  and  Hegel,  but  the  existence  of  the  personal 
God.  However  that  may  be,  we  hardly  know  what  to 
admire  most,  —  St.  Anselm's  broad  and  deep  conception, 
or  the  sagacity  of  liis  opponent  who,  in  the  seclusion  of  his 
cell,  anticipates  the  Transcendental  Dialectic  of  Kant. 

The  rationalistic  tendency  which  we  have  just  noticed  in 
the  Monologium  and  the  Proslogium  meets  us  again  in  the 
Cur  Deus  homo  ?  Why  did  God  become  man  ?  The  first 
word  of  the  title  sufficiently  indicates  the  philosophical 
trend  of  the  treatise.  The  object  is  to  search  for  the 
causes  of  the  incarnation.  The  incarnation,  according  to 
St.  Anselm,  necessarily  follows  from  the  necessity  of 
redemption.  Sin  is  an  offence  against  the  majesty  of  God. 
In  spite  of  his  goodness,  God  cannot  pardon  sin  without 
compounding  with  honor  and  justice.  On  the  other  hand, 
he  cannot  revenge  liimseK  on  man  for  his  offended  honor ; 
for  sin  is  an  offence  of  infuiite  degree,  and  therefoie 
demands  infinite  satisfaction ;  wliicli  means  that  he  must 
either  destroy  humanity  or  inflict  upon  it  the  eternal  pun- 
ishments of  hell.  Now,  in  either  case,  the  goal  of  creation, 
the  happiness  of  his  creatures,  would  be  missed  and  the 
honor  of  the  Creator  compromised.  There  is  but  one  way 
for  God  to  escape  this  dilemma  without  affecting  his 
honor,  and  that  is  to  arrange  for  some  kind  of  satisfaction. 
He  must  have  infinite  satisfaction,  because  the  offence  is 
immeasurable.  Now,  in  so  far  as  man  is  a  finite  being 
and  incapable  of  satisfying  divine  justice  in  an  infinite 
measure,  the  infinite  being  himself  must  take  the  matter  in 
charge ;  he  must  have  recourse  to  substitution.  Hence,  the 
necessity  of  the  incarnation.  God  becomes  man  in  Christ; 
Christ  suffers  and  dies  in  our  stead ;  thus  he  acquires  an 
infinite  merit  and  the  right  to  an  equivalent  recompense. 
But  since  the  world  belongs  to  the  Creator,  and  nothing 
can  be  added  to  its  treasures,  the  recompense  wliicli  by 


REALISM  AND  NOMINALISM  219 

right  belongs  to  Christ  falls  to  the  lot  of  the  human 
race  in  which  he  is  incorporated :  humanity  is  pardoned, 
forgiven,  and  saved. 

Theological  criticism  has  repudiated  Anselm's  theory, 
which  bears  the  stamp  of  the  spirit  of  chivalry  and  of 
feudal  customs.  But,  notwithstanding  the  attacks  of  a 
superficial  rationalism,  there  is  an  abiding  element  of  truth 
in  it:  over  and  above  each  personal  and  variable  will  there 
is  an  absolute,  immutable,  and  incorruptible  will,  called 
justice,  honor,  and  duty,  in  conformity  with  the  customs 
of  the  times. 

We  have  now  to  speak  of  the  part  the  great  Schoolman 
j^layed  in  the  discussion  that  arose  after  his  promotion  to 
the  Archbishopric  of  Canterbury:  I  mean  the  controversy 
between  the  realists  and  the  nominalists,  or  let  me  rather 
say,  between  the  idealists  and  the  materialists,  —  for  this 
"  monkish  quarrel "  was  in  reality  a  conflict  between  meta- 
physical principles.^ 

§  33.     Realism  and  Nominalism  ^ 

The  Catholic  or  universal  Church  does  not  merely  aim 
to  be  an  aggregation  of  particular  Christian  communities 
and  of  the  believers  composing  them ;  she  regards  herself 
as  a  superior  j)Ower,  as  a  reality  distinct  from  and  inde. 
pendent  of  the  individuals  belonging  to  the  fold.  If  the 
Idea,  tliat  is,  the  general  or  universal  (to  kuOoXov),  were 

^  AVe  should  say  realists  instead  of  "  materialists,"  were  it  not  for 
the  fact  that  the  former  term  was,  during  the  Middle  Ages,  applied  to 
the  opposite  side.  We  mean  the  party  which  unduly  emphasizes  the 
real  or  material  principle,  and  whicli  in  the  history  of  mediicval  phil- 
osophy represents  Tonianism  and  r(Mii)ateticisiu,  as  distinguished  from 
Academic  idealism. 

^  [C.  S.  Barach,  Zur  Geschlckte  des  Nomlnnlismus  vor  Jioscelliu, 
Vienna,  1800,-  J.  If.  Lowe,  Der  Kanij/f  zwlschen  dcm  Ileulismus  und 
Noviinalismus  iin  Millelaller,  sein  Ursjirung  und  sriii  I'tr/auf,  rragne. 
Ib7(i.  —  Tu.j 


220  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

not  a  realiti/,  "the  Church"  woukl  be  a  mere  collective 
term,  and  the  particular  churches,  or  rather  the  individuals 
composing  them,  would  be  the  only  realities.  Hence,  the 
Church  must  be  realistic,^  and  declare  with  the  Academy ; 
Universalia  sunt  realia.  Catholicism  is  synonymous  with 
realism.  Common-sense,  on  the  other  hand,  tends  to 
reo-ard  universals  as  mere  notions  of  the  mind,  as  signs 
desio-nating  a  collection  of  individuals,  as  abstractions  hav- 
ing no  objective  reality.  According  to  it,  individuals  alone 
are  real,  and  its  motto  is  :  Universalia  simt  iiomina  ;  it  is 
nominalistic,  individualistic. 

The  latter  view  was  advanced  and  developed  about  1090 
by  RoscELLiNUS,  a  canon  of  Compiegne.  According  to  him, 
universals  are  mere  names,  vocis  Jiatus,  and  only  particular 
thino-s  have  real  existence.  Though  this  thesis  seemed 
quite  harmless,  it  was,  nevertheless,  full  of  heresies.  If 
the  individual  alone  is  real,  the  Church  is  but  a  flatus  vocis, 
and  the  individuals  composing  it  are  the  only  realities. 
If  the  individual  alone  is  real,  Catholicism  is  no  more  than 
a  collection  of  individual  convictions,  and  there  is  noth- 
ing real,  solid,  and  positive,  but  the  personal  faith  of  the 
Christian.  If  the  individual  alone  is  real,  original  sin  is  a 
mere  phrase,  and  individual  and  personal  sin  alone  is  reah 
If  the  individual  alone  is  real,  there  is  nothing  real  in  God 
except  the  three  persons,  —  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the 
Holy  Ghost ;  and  the  common  essence  which,  according  to 
the  Church,  unites  them  into  one  God,  is  a  mere  nomen,  a 
flatus  vocis.     Roscellinus,  who  is  especially  emphatic  on 

1  Let  me  remind  the  reader  that  in  the  Middle  Ages  the  term 
realiiit  meant  idealist,  that  is,  the  direct  opposite  of  what  it  means 
now.  The  same  is  true  of  the  words  objective  and  subjective.  What 
we  call  objective,  Scholastic  philosophy  calls  subjective  (viz.,  that  which 
exists  as  a  subject,  substance,  or  reality  independent  of  my  thought)  ; 
while  what  we  call  subjective  is  called  objective  (viz.,  that  which  exists 
merely  as  an  object  of  thought  and  not  as  a  real  subject).  This  ter- 
minology, the  couvei-se  of  ours,  is  still  found  in  Descartes  and  Spinoza. 


REALISM  AND  NOMINALISM  221 

the  latter  point,  is  not  content  with  defending  his  tritheis- 
tic  heresy ;  he  takes  tlie  offensive  and  accuses  his  adver- 
saries of  heresy.  To  hold  that  the  Eternal  Father  himself 
became  man  in  Christ  in  order  to  suffer  and  die  on  Cal- 
vary, is  a  heresy  condemned  by  the  Church  as  Patripas- 
sianism.  Now,  if  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy 
Ghost  have  the  same  essence,  and  if  this  essence  is  an 
objective  reality,  it  follows  that  the  essence  of  the  Father 
or  the  Father  himself  became  man  in  Cluist :  a  statement 
which  is  explicitly  contradicted  by  Scriptui-e  and  the 
Church  herself. 

Roscellinus  had  pointed  out  a  difficidty  in  the  dogma,  — • 
an  offence  for  which  the  Church  never  forgave  him.  The 
Council  of  Soissons  condemned  his  heresy  and  forced  liim 
to  retract  (1092).  Nominalism  thus  anathematized  held  its 
peace  for  more  than  two  centuries,  and  did  not  reappear 
until  about  1320,  in  the  doctrine  of  Occam. 

The  most  ardent  champions  of  realism  in  the  controversy 
aroused  by  the  canon  of  Compiegne  were  St.  Anselm  and 
William  of  Champeaux,  a  professor  at  Paris  and  after- 
wards Bishop  of  Chalons.^  St.  Anselm  combated  not 
only  the  dogmatic  heresy  but  also  the  philosophical  heresy, 
namely,  the  negation  of  Platonic  idealism,  the  antithesis  of 
speculative  philosophy.  "  Reason,"  he  says,^  "is  so  confused 
with  corporeal  ideas  in  tlieir  souls  (he  is  speaking  of  the 
nominalists),  that  they  find  it  impossible  to  get  rid  of  them 
and  to  separate  from  such  material  ideas  that  which  ought 
to  be  considered  in  itself  and  independently  of  all  corporeal 
intermixture.  .  .  .  They  cannot  understand  that  man  is 
something  more  than  an  individuaiy 

William  of  Champeaux  deduces  the  extreme  conse- 

'  Died  1121.  [Michaud,  GuiUaume  de  Champeaux  et  les  ecoles  de 
Paris  au  Xfl^e  siecle,  Paris,  1SG8.  —  Tr.] 

2  De  fide  trin.,  c.  2.  We  were,  tlierefore,  juslificd  in  translaliiig 
nominalism  by  tlie  word  viateriulism.  j).  21!*. 


222  niiLOSorHY  of  the  middle  ages 

quences  of  realism.  According  to  him,  nothing  is  real  but 
the  universal ;  individuals  are  mere  Jiatus  vocis.  From 
the  anthropological  point  of  view,  for  example,  there  is  in 
reality,  accorcUng  to  Champeaux,  but  one  man,  the  univer- 
sal man,  the  man-type,  the  genus  man.  All  individuals 
are  fundamentally  the  same,  and  differ  only  in  the  acci- 
dental modifications  of  their  common  essence.  Champeaux 
is  but  a  step  removed  from  pure  pantheism,  and  yet  he 
is  the  defender  of  orthodoxy,  the  passionate  adversary  of 
the  heresy  of  Roscellinus  !  What  a  strange  confusion  of 
ideas  and  interests  !  What  an  intellectual  chaos,  out  of 
which  the  Catholic  theology  of  our  day  is  with  difficulty 
beginning  to  bring  order! 

Between  extreme  nominalism,  which  says :  Universale 
'post  rem,  and  extreme  realism,  which  has  for  its  motto : 
Universale  ante  rem,  there  was  room  for  a  doctrine  of 
mediation,  which  may  be  summarized  as  follows :  Univer- 
sale neque  ante  rem  nee  post  rem,  sed  In  Re.  Tliis  we  get 
in  the  concept iialism  of  Abelard. 

§  34.  Abelard 
PiEERE  Abelaed,  or  Abailard,!  ^^^^  i^q^.j-^  [^i  Palais, 
near  Nantes,  1079,  and  studied  at  Paris  under  William  of 
Cliampeaux,  the  most  skilful  controversialist  of  the  period. 
Quarrelling  with  his  teacher,  who  Avas  jealous  of  his  pupil's 
brilliant  talents,  Abelard,  though  only  twenty-two  years 
of  age,  opens  a  school  at  Melun,  then  at  Corbeil.  His 
reconciliation  with  Champeaux  brings  him  back  to  Paris, 
where  he  meets  with  unparalleled  success  as  a  teacher. 
Fallino-  a  victim  to  the  vindictiveness  of  the  canon  Fulbert, 

1  Abaelardi  Opera,  ed.  Cousin,  1849-59  ;  V.  Cousin's  Introduction  to 
Ouvrages  inedits  d'Ahelard,  Paris,  1836 ;  Cousin,  Fragments  de  phi- 
losophie  xcolasiigiie,  Taris,  1840  ;  Charles  de  Rcmusat,  Abelard,  2  vols., 
Paris,  1845;  [Ilausrath,  Peter  Abelard,  Leipsic,  1892]. 


ABELARD  223 

whose  niece  he  had  seduced,  he  retires  to  the  Abbey  of  St. 
Denis,  while  Heloise  takes  the  veil  at  Argenteuil.  In  his 
retirement  he  writes  the  treatise  Dc  trinitate,  a  work  wliicli 
brings  down  upon  his  head  the  wrath  of  the  Church.  The 
Council  of  Soissons  condemns  him  to  deliver  his  book  to  the 
flames  (1122).  At  Nogent-sur-Seine  he  founds  an  Oratory, 
which  he  dedicates  to  the  Tiinity,  and  particularly  to  the 
Paraclete.  Tliis  he  afterwards  surrenders  to  Heloise,  in 
order  to  enter  upon  his  duties  as  Abbot  of  St.  Gildas  de 
Ruys.  Denounced  as  a  heretic  by  St.  Bernard  of  Clair- 
vaux,  he  is  again  condemned,  this  time  to  imprisonment 
(1140) ;  but  he  finds  an  unexpected  refuge  in  the  Abbey 
of  Clugny,  and  a  noble  protector  in  Peter  the  Venerable, 
through  whose  efforts  St.  Bernard  is  finally  moved  to  for- 
giveness. These  troubles  undermine  his  health,  and  cause 
his  death  in  1142.  In  addition  to  his  Be  trinitate,  we  have 
to  mention  his  Letters,  his  Introductio  ad  theologiam,  and  his 
Thcologia  Christiana,  his  Ethics  (Nosce  te  ipsuni),  the  Dia- 
logue between  a  Philosopher,  a  Christian,  and  a  Jew,  pub- 
lished by  Reinwald  (Berlin,  1831),  and  the  treatise  Sic 
et  noii^  published  by  V.  Cousin  in  the  Ouvrages  inedits 
d'Ahelard  (Paris,  1836). 

Abelard  is  too  speculative  a  thinker  to  accept  the  notions 
of  Roscellinus,  and  too  positivistic  to  subscribe  to  the 
theory  of  William  of  Champeaux.  According  to  him,  the 
universal  exists  in  the  individual ;  outside  of  the  individual 
it  exists  only  in  the  form  of  a  concept.  Moreover,  though 
it  exists  in  the  individual  as  a  reality,  it  exists  there  not 
as  an  essence  but  as  an  individual.  If  it  existed  in  it 
essentially,  or,  in  other  terms,  if  it  exhausted  the  essence 
of  the  individual,  what  would  l)e  the  difference  between 
Peter  and  I'aul  ?  Altliough  Abelard's  theory  is  not  iden- 
tical with  nominalism,  it  comes  very  near  it.  It  is  to  the 
ultra-idealistic  doctrine  of  Champeaux  what  the  concrete 
idealism  of  Aristotle  is  to  tlie  abstract  idealism  of  IMato. 


224  PHILOSOPHY   OF  THE   MIDDLE   AGES 

Abelard,  who  was  not  acquainted  with  Aristotle's  Meta- 
physics,  divines  its  contents  from  the  few  hints  he  gets 
from  the  Organon.  That  alone  would  assure  him  a  high 
place  among  the  doctors  of  the  Middle  Ages. 

Abelard  is,  moreover,  the  most  independent,  the  most 
courageous,  and  the  most  relentless  among  the  Schoolmen. 
Thouo-h  respectful  towards  the  Church,  he  is  not  afraid  of 
incurring  its  displeasure,  when  occasion  demands  it.  He 
agrees  with  the  author  of  the  Cit7'  Deus  homo  ?  that  revealed 
truth  and  rational  truth  are  identical,  but  he  does  not,  like 
Anselmus,  accept  St.  Augustine's  credo  lU  intelligam.  It 
is  surprising  with  what  frankness  his  Iiitroductlo  condemns 
the  presumptuous  crediditij  of  those  ivho  indiscriminately 
and  hastily  accept  any  doctrine  whatsoever  hefore  considering 
its  merits  and  whether  it  is  worthy  of  belief.  He  is  an  en- 
thusiastic admirer  of  Greek  philosophy,  which,  however,  as 
he  himself  confesses,  he  knows  only  from  the  works  of  St. 
Augustine. 1  He  finds  all  the  essential  doctrines  of  Cliris- 
tianity,  its  conception  of  God,  the  Trinity,  and  the  incar- 
nation, in  the  great  thinkers  of  antiquity,  and  the  distance 
between  Paganism  and  the  Gospel  does  not  seem  so  great 
to  him  as  that  between  the  Old  and  the  New  Testaments. 
It  .is  especially  from  the  ethical  point  of  view,  he  believes, 
that  Greek  philosophy  has  the  advantage  over  the  teach- 
ings of  the  sacred  books  of  Israel.  Hence,  why  should  we 
deny  the  pagan  thinkers  eternal  happiness  because  they  did 
not  know  Christ  ?  What  is  the  Gospel  but  a  reform  of  the 
natural  moral  law,  legis  naturalis  reformatio  ?  Shall  we 
people  hell  with  men  whose  lives  and  teachings  are  truly 
evangelical  and  apostolic  in  their  perfection,  and  differ  in 
nothing  or  very  little  from  the  Christian  religion  ?  ^ 

^  TJieoIogia  ch-istiana.  Book  IT. :  Qiice  ex  philn^opJiia  coUeqi  fe^^fimonia, 
non  ex  eorum  scriptk,  quce  nunquam  fortasse  vidi,  imo  ex  libris  B.  Aiigustini 
colleg'u 

*  Theologia  Christiana,  11. 


ABELARD  225 

How  does  Abelard  manage  to  find  such  doctrines  as  the 
Trinity  in  Greek  pliilosophy?  The  three  persons  are  re- 
duced to  three  attributes  {proprietates  own  essentia^')  of 
the  Divine  Being :  power,  wisdom,  and  goodness.  Taken 
separately,  he  says,i  these  three  properties  :  power,  knowl- 
edge, and  will,  are  nothing  ;  but  united  they  constitute  the 
highest  perfection  (tuta  iKrfcdio  honi).  The  Trinity  is  the 
Being  who  can  do  what  he  wills,  and  who  wills  what  he 
knows  to  be  the  best.  From  the  theological  stand-point, 
this  is  monarchism,  a  heresy  opposed  to  the  tritheism  of 
Roscellinus.  Metaphysically,  it  is  concrete  spiritualism, 
which  denies  that  force  and  thought  are  separate  entities, 
and  holds  that  they  are  united  in  the  vnll. 

In  times  of  religious  fervor,  morality  is  identified  with 
piety,  ethics  with  theology,  while  enlightened  and  sceptical 
periods  tend  to  separate  them.  The  first  appearance  of  a 
system  of  ethics  independent  of  dogmatics  is  therefore  an 
important  symptom.  Such  a  work  is  Hildebert  of  Lavar- 
din's  popular  treatise  on  ethics,  Moralis  philosopJna,^  an 
imitation  of  Cicero  and  of  Seneca ;  such  is,  above  all,  the 
much  profounder  and  more  scientific  treatise  of  Abelard : 
Nosce  te  ipsum. 

Not  that  Abelard  dreams  of  separating  ethics  from  onto- 
logy, as  our  independent  moralists  do.  But  the  6v  on  which 
he  bases  the  moral  law  is  not  the  divine  free-will  of  the 
Latin  Fathers.  Since  God  is  the  best  and  most  perfect 
Being,  all  his  acts  are  necessary.  For,  if  it  be  right  that  a 
thing  he  done,  it  is  wrong  not  to  do  it ;  and  whoever  fails 
to  do  what  reason  demands  is  no  less  at  fault  than  he  who 
does  what  it  prohibits.  And  just  as  God's  conduct  is  de- 
termined by  reason,  we,  his  creatures,  are,  in  tui-ii,  deter- 
mined by  the  divine  will.  Inasmuch  as  God  is  llie  ilbsolute 
cause,  tlio  Being  in  whom  we  live,  move,  and  liave  our 
being,  and   wlio  is  lli(;refore  tlie  source  of  onr  jjowci-  and 

'    T/,r„/of/i<i  r/iris/iaiKj.  2  s.-e  §  :V2. 

li 


226  PHILOSOPHY   OF  THE   MIDDLE  AGES 

will,  it  follows  that  God  is,  in  a  certain  sense,  also  tlie 
author  of  whatever  acts  we  may  perform,  and  that  he  does 
what  he  makes  us  do  {quod  nos  facer e  facif)} 

The  tendency  to  evil  is  not  sin,  but  the  condition  of  vir- 
tue, for  virtue  is  a  struggle,  and  all  struggle  presupposes 
opposition.     Nor  is  the  act  as  such  the  7natter  of  the  sin ; 
the  act  as  such  is  indifferent.      The  sin  lies  in  the  form  of 
the  act,  that  is,  in  the  will  which  chctates  it.      Neither  the 
tendency  to  evil  nor  the  act  in  itself  is  sin,  but  the  inten- 
tion, though  arrested,  of  satisfying  an  evil  desire  or  indulg- 
ing a  passion.     It  follows  that  the  man  who  has  consented 
to  an  evil  action  and  is  hindered  in  its  accomplishment  by 
some  circumstance  or  other,  is  as  culpable  as  though  he  had 
performed  it.    The  intention  deserves  punishment  as  much 
as  the  act,  and  he  who  consents  to  do  evil  has  already  done 
evil.    The  Supreme  Judge  does  not  judge  appearances  and 
the  outside,  but  the  spirit.    By  distinguishing  between  the 
desire  and  the  intention  to  surrender  one's  self  to  it,  be- 
tween the  natural  craving  and  the  will  to  follow  it,  Abelard 
repudiates  that  exaggerated  form  of  pessimism  which  re- 
gards the  life  of  man  as  one  perpetual  sin ;  by  characteriz- 
ing the  external  act  as  indifferent,  he  attacks  the  growing 
formalism  of  Catholic  morality.     As  was  pointed  out,  the 
conceptualistic  theory  shows  the  first  signs  of  the  influ- 
ence exerted  by  Aristotle  on  the  Middle  Ages.     The  ethics 
of  Abelard  reminds  us  of  Aristotle  and  his  ethics  of  the 
golden  mean  .2 

The  influence  of  Abelard  was  considerable.  We  observe 
it  in  Bernard  of  Chartres  called  Si/lvestris,^  in  William  of 
Conches,'^  the  learned  professor  of  Paris,  who,  in  his  Fhilo- 

1  Cf.  the  Ethics  of  Geulincx  (§  54). 

2  [Cf/Th.  Ziegler,  AbcehmVs  Elliica,  Freiburg,  1884.  —  Tr.] 

3  Megacosmus  et  Microcosmus  [ed.  by  C.  S.  Barach,  ISTfi] ;  frag- 
ments published  by  Cousin. 

*  Magna  de  naiuris  philosophia:  Dragmaticon  pMlosopJiue,  etc.;  Philo- 

sophia  minor. 


HTGO  OF   ST.  VICTOR  227 

Sophia  minor^^  protests  against  ecclesiastical  intolerance, 
in  Gilbert  tie  la  Porrde,  Bishop  of  Poitiers,^  in  John  of 
Salisbmy,  Bishop  of  Chartres,^  and  even  in  his  adversary 
Hugo  of  St.  Victor.  Gilbert  is  branded  as  an  atheist  by 
St.  Bernard  because  he  distinguishes  between  God  and  the 
Deit}',  between  the  person  and  the  essence  of  the  Supreme 
Being.  ^'  The  divine  Spirit,"  says  John  of  Salisbury  in  his 
Polycraticus,'^  "  the  creator  and  giver  of  life,  replenishes  not 
only  the  human  soul  but  every  creature  in  the  universe. 
.  .  .  For  outside  of  God  there  is  no  substantial  creature, 
and  things  exist  only  in  so  far  as  they  share  in  the  divine 
essence.  By  his  omnipresence  God  envelopes  his  creatures, 
penetrates  them  and  fills  them  full  of  himself.  .  .  .  All 
things,  even  the  most  insignificant,  reveal  God,  but  each 
reveals  him  in  its  own  Avay.  Just  as  the  sunlight  is  tlif- 
ferent  in  the  sapphire,  the  hyacinth,  and  the  topaz,  so,  too, 
God  reveals  himself  in  an  infinite  variety  of  forms  in  dif- 
ferent orders  of  creation." 

The  same  freedom  of  form  and  the  same  monistic  ten- 
dency as  regards  the  matter,  joined  with  the  deepest  and 
purest  religious  feeling,  we  find  in  Hugo  of  St.  Victor, 
the  fii-st  great  mystic  of  the  Middle  Ages. 

§  35.     Hugo  of  St.   Victor 

We  observe  a  most  striking  diiTerence  between  Hugo  of 
Blankenburg,°  a  raonk  of  St.  Victor  at  Paris,  (1096-1140), 

^  Philosophia  minor,  I.,  23. 

2  Died  1154.      Conun.  in  Buelh.  de  trin.  ;  De  sex  principiis. 

«  Died  IISO.  Opera,  ed.  Giles,  5  vols.,  0.\ford,  1S18;  [also  in 
Migne's  collection,  vol.  199;  C.  Schaarschniidt,  ./(>/K/;///e.s'  Saresberien- 
m,  etc.,  Leipsic,  1862.  —  Th.]. 

*  Polycralicm,  I.,  1,  5;  III.,  1  ;  VIF.,  17. 

6  Opera,  Venice,  1.5H8 ;  Rouen,  KJlS;  [Migne,  vols.  IT.')-]??;  Lieb- 
ner,  Hugo  von  St.  Viktor,  Leipsic,  iS.-jr,;  Pieger,  Gcschichte  der 
deutxchen  Myslih  im  Mittelaller,  etc.,  Munich,  1875.  —  Tic] 


228  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

and  his  illustrious  contemporary.  Abelard  is  a  French- 
man :  he  has  a  perfect  mania  for  clearness,  precision,  and 
form ;  his  faith  is  a  matter  of  knowledge ;  logic  is  his 
"god."  Hugo  is  of  German  origin.  His  tastes  as  well 
as  his  duties  exclutle  him  from  the  brilliant  scenes  in 
which  the  genius  of  Abelard  unfolds  itself.  In  the  soli- 
tude of  his  cell,  he  devotes  himself  to  study,  meditation, 
and  contemplation.  He  is  no  less  independent  than  Abe- 
lard, but  with  him  it  is  all  a  matter  of  feeling  rather  than  of 
reflection.  He  is  a  skilful  dialectician,  but  opposed  to  the 
formalistic  rationalism  of  the  School.  Although  his  liber- 
alism differs  very  much  from  that  of  Abelard,  he  arrives  at 
similar  results.  Rationalism  and  mysticism  both  tend 
towards  monism.  Hence  mysticism  exercises  a  no  less 
harmful  influence  upon  the  dogma  than  rational  criticism, 
during  the  Middle  Ages ;  hence,  also,  mysticism  and  pan- 
theism are  synonymous  in  France. 

Hugo's  views,  especially  as  set  forth  in  his  work,  De 
sacramentis  christiance  fidei,  are  surprisingly  bold.  An 
absolute  orthodoxy  does  not  seem  to  him  to  be  essential  to 
salvation,  or  even  possible.  We  ma}^  according  to  him,  be 
thoroughly  convinced  of  the  truth  of  the  dogmas  without 
agreeing  on  their  interpretation ;  unity  of  faith  by  no 
means  implies  identity  of  opinions  concerning  the  faith.i 
It  is  impossible  to  have  uniform  notions  of  God,  because 
God  transcends  all  human  conception.  This  is  a  charac- 
teristic trait  of  mysticism,  and  essentially  distinguishes  it 
from  the  rationalism  of  Abelard  and  Anselm.  Although 
assuming  with  the  latter  that  the  Trinity  is  simply  supreme 
power  (the  Father),  supreme  intelligence  (the  Son  or  the 
Revealer),  and  supreme  goodness  (the  Holy  Ghost),  Hugo 
teaches  that  the  infinite  Being  is  absolutely  incompre- 
hensible. 

God  is  not  only  supra-intelligible ;  nay,  we  cannot  even 

"^  De  sacramentis,  I.,  p.  x.,  c.  6. 


HUGO  OF  ST.  VICTOR  229 

conceive  him  by  analogy.  What,  indeed,  is  analogous  to 
God  ?  The  earth  ?  The  heaven  ?  The  spirit  ?  The  soul  ? 
None  of  all  these  is  God.  You  say:  I  know  that  these 
tilings  are  not  God;  but  they  bear  some  resemblance  to 
him,  and  may  therefore  serve  to  define  him.  You  might  as 
well  show  me  a  body  in  order  to  give  me  an  idea  of  mind. 
Your  example  would  surely  be  inappropriate,  and  yet  the 
distance  from  mind  to  body  is  less  than  that  between  God 
and  mind.  The  most  opposite  creatures  differ  less  among 
themselves  than  the  Creator  differs  from  the  creature. 
Hence  it  is  impossible  to  understand  God,  who  exists  only 
for  faith. ^  For  Abelard,  the  pure  dialectician,  an  incom- 
prehensible God  is  an  impossible  God;  for  Hugo,  tlie  intui- 
tionist  and  mystic  metaphysician,  he  is  the  liighest  reality. 
Hugo  was  the  first,  after  St.  Augustine,  to  pay  serious 
attention  to  psychology.  He  is  an  earnest  champion  of 
animism  in  this  field.  Body  and  soul  are,  in  his  opinion, 
separate  substances,  without  being  absolutely  opposed  to 
each  other ;  for  there  is  a  double  bond  of  union  between 
them :  the  imagination,  which  is,  so  to  speak,  the  corporeal 
element  of  the  soul,  and  sensibility,  which  is,  as  it  were, 
the  spiritual  element  of  the  body.  The  soul  possesses 
three  fundamental  foj'ces:  natural  force,  vital  force,  and 
animal  force.  The  natural  force  has  its  seat  in  the  liver, 
where  it  prepares  the  blood  and  the  humors  whieli  are  dis- 
tributed through  the  veins  over  the  entire  body.  It  is 
alternately  appetitive,  retentive,  expulsive,  and  distributive, 
and  is  common  to  all  animals.  The  vital  force,  which 
resides  in  the  heart,  manifests  itself  in  the  function  of 
respiration.  It  purifies  the  blood  by  means  of  inhaled  air, 
and  causes  it  to  circulate  through  the  arteries.  It  also  pro- 
duces vital  heat.2     The  animal  or  psychic  force,  which  is 

^  De  sacramenlis,  I.,  p.  x.,  c.  2. 

'^  Hugo  has  a  vague  idea  of  the  ciiTuliilinn  lA'  liu'  lilood  ;iinl  llin 
difference  between  venous  and  artciiid  l)lood.  He  also  seems  to  regard 
the  liver  as  the  cliief  organ  for  tlie  preparation  of  tlie  vital  Ihiid. 


230  PHILOSOPHY   OF   THE   MIDDLE   AGES 

situaled  in  the  brain,  produces  sensation,  movement,  and 
thought.  Each  of  these  manifestations  of  the  soul  employs 
a  different  region  of  the  brain.  Sensation  is  connected 
with  the  anterior  portion,  movement  with  the  posterior 
portion,  and  thought  with  the  middle  portion  of  this  organ. 
We  have  not  two  different  souls:  a  sensitive  soul,  the 
principle  of  corporeal  life,  and  an  intelligent  soul,  the  prin- 
ciple of  thought.  The  soul  Qanirna')  and  the  spirit  {ani- 
mus sive  s-piritus)  are  one  and  the  same  principle.  The 
spirit  is  this  principle  considered  in  itself  and  indepen- 
dently of  the  body :  the  soul  is  this  same  principle  in  so  far 
as  it  animates  the  body.^ 

There  is  a  genuineness  about  these  lines  of  the  De  anima 
that  contrasts  with  the  fruitless  quibblings  of  dualistic 
spiritualism ;  and  when  in  the  Zihri  didascalici  Hugo  of 
St.  Victor  traces  the  successive  stages  of  psychical  life 
from  the  plant  to  man,  he  seems  to  anticipate  evolution 
and  comparative  psychology. 

§  36.     The  Progress  of  Free  Thought 

The  disciple  of  Hugo,  the  Scotchman  Richard,^  Prior 
of  St.  Victor,  outlines  a  system  of  religious  philosophy  in 
his  De  trinitate  that  breathes  the  same  spirit  of  free  inves- 
tigation as  the  writings  of  his  master.  This  may  be  seen 
from  the  following  characteristic  lines :  "  I  have  often 
read,"  he  says,  "  that  there  is  but  one  God,  that  this  God 
is  one  as  to  substance,  three  as  to  persons ;  that  the  divine 

1  De  anima,  II.,  4  :  Uiius  idemqiie  spiritus  ad  seipsum  dicitur  spnr- 
itus,  et  ad  corpus  anima.  Spiritus  est  in  quantum  est  ratione  pra:dita  sub- 
stantia; anima  in  quantum  est  vita  corporis.  .  .  .  Non  duce  animcB, 
sensualis  et  rationalis,  sed  una  eademque  anima  et  in  semet  ipsa  vivit  per 
intellectum  et  corpus  sensijicat  per  sensum. 

2  Died  1174.  Opera,  Venice,  1506;  Paris,  1518;  [Migne,  vol.  194; 
J.  G.  V.  Engelhardt,  Richard  von  St.  Victor  und  Johannes  Rmjshroek, 
Erlangen,  1838.  —  Tr.]. 


THE  PROGKESS  OF  EKEE  THOUGHT  231 

persons  are  distinguished  from  each  other  by  a  characteris- 
tic propert}' ;  that  these  three  persons  are  not  three  gods, 
but  one  only  God.  We  frequently  hear  and  read  such 
statements,  but  I  do  not  remember  ever  having  read  how 
they  are  proved.  There  is  an  abundance  of  authorities 
on  these  questions,  but  an  extreme  dearth  of  arguments, 
proofs,  and  reasons.  Hence,  the  problem  is  to  find  a 
firm,  immovable,  and  certain  basis  on  which  to  erect  the 
system."  ^ 

Richard  finds  such  a  basis  for  the  dogma  of  the  Trinity 
in  the  idea  of  divine  love,  which  necessarily  creates  an  ob- 
ject for  itself.  But  tins  proof  he  does  not  regard  as  sufii- 
cient.  AVhile  liis  De  triuitate  is  conceived  in  the  spirit 
of  Abelard,  Ins  Be  cuntemplatiom  openly  espouses  Hugo's 
views.  Richard  abandons  the  attempt  to  reach  God  by 
the  reasoning  powers,  and  substitutes  feeling  for  reflection. 
He  distinguishes  six  stages  in  the  mystical  ascension  of 
the  sold  towards  God.  In  the  higher  stages  the  soul  is 
expanded,  raised  above  itself,  delivered  from  itself  {dilatatio, 
sublevatio.  alienatio,  excessus).  HoAvever,  whether  you  call 
him  a  mystic  or  a  rationalist,  Richard  teaches  a  kind  of 
Neo-Platonic  emanation  and  the  identity  of  nature  and 
of  grace. 

Alaxus  of  Lisle,'-^  though  an  orthodox  cliurchman, 
tries  to  construct  a  sj'stem  of  dogmatics  by  means  of  a 
strictly  matlicmatical  metliod,  and  concludes  that  every- 
thing is  in  God  and  God  in  ever3-thing. 

Robert  of  Melun  ^  distinguishes  —  a  serious  symptom  ! 
—  hetween  event  as  f^ui  secundum  rcrum  ncituram  contingunt^ 
et  evenius  qui  contingunt  secundum  Dei  potentiam  quce  supra 

1  r.,  cii.  o-o. 

2  Alaims  ab  insulis,  proffssor  at  Paris,  flierl  1203.     Opera,  ed.  by 

Visch,  Antwerp,  105:5;  fvol.  120,  Alit^iic]. 

8  Dif'd  1173.  Suiiuiiu  tlieolofjki  (llaiir(jau,  in  tlic  wmk  filed,  1., 
pp.  '.V-\2  fT.). 


232  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE   MIDDLE   AGES 

reru'in  naturam  est.  He  is,  however,  truly  devoted  to  the 
Church  and  its  doctrines,  defending  it  against  the  heresies 
which  begin  to  threaten  it.  There  are  people,  he  says, 
who  deny  the  miraculous  conception  of  Christ  on  the 
jrround  that  such  a  phenomenon  would  be  contrary  to  the 
natural  course  of  events.  But  is  not  God,  the  author 
of  nature,  above  nature,  and  has  he  not  the  power  to 
chano-e  the  regular  course  of  nature?  How  are  these 
doubters  going  to  explain  the  origin  of  Adam  and  Eve? 
Just  as  the  protoplasts  could  originate  without  an  earthly 
mother,  Jesus  was  able  to  come  into  the  world  without 
a  human  father. 

In  addition  to  these  attempts  at  Christian  pliilosophy 
we  have  the  HigJit  Books  of  Sentences  by  the  Englishman, 
Robert  Pulleyn,^  and  the  Four  Books  of  Sentences  by 
Peter  of  Novaro,  or  the  Lombard  {Magister  sententiarum).^ 
Peter  the  Lombard's  work,  the  success  of  which  soon 
eclipsed  PuUeyn's,  forms  a  complete  sj'stem  of  dogmatics. 
It  considers  a  whole  host  of  questions  which  betray  the  bar- 
renness of  Scholastic  discussions,  but  wliich  also  show  what 
progress  has  been  made  by  thought  in  its  opposition  to  the 
guardiansliip  of  the  Church :  How  can  we  reconcile  divine 
prescience  with  free  creation?  (If  God  foresaw  that  he 
would  create,  then  he  had  to  create,  and  creation  is  not  an 
act  of  freedom.  If  God  did  not  foresee  it,  Avhat  becomes 
of  his  omniscience  ?;  Where  was  God  before  creation  ?  (He 
could  not  have  been  in  heaven,  for  heaven  too  was  created.) 
Could  God  have  made  things  better  than  he  has  made 
them?  Where  were  the  angels  before  the  creation  of 
heaven  ?  Can  angels  sin  ?  Have  they  a  body  ?  In  what 
form  do  God  and  the  angels  appear  to  men  ?     How  do  de- 

1  Died  about  1154. 

2  Died  1164,  Bishop  of  Paris.  Lihri  quatiior  senientiaruvi  (Venice, 
1477  ;  Bale,  1516,  etc.  Migne,  vol.  192)  ;  [F.  Protois,  Pierre  Lombard, 
etc.,  Paris,  1881.  —  Tr.]. 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  FREE  THOUGHT  233 

mons  enter  into  men  ?  What  was  Adam's  form  before  his 
appearance  on  earth  ?  Why  was  Eve  taken  from  a  side  and 
not  from  some  other  part  of  Adam's  body  ?  Why  was  she 
created  while  Adam  was  asleep  ?  Would  man  be  immortal 
if  he  had  never  sinned  ?  And  in  that  ease  how  would  men 
have  multiplied  ?  Would  children  have  come  into  the  world 
as  full-grown  men  ?  Why  did  the  Son  become  man  ?  Could 
not  the  Father  and  the  Holy  Ghost  have  become  man? 
Could  God  have  become  incarnate  in  Avoman  as  easily  as 
in  man?  These  hoivs  and  why's,  multiplied  without  end, 
betray  the  naive  curiosity  and  the  charming  indiscretion 
peculiar  to  the  child,  but  they  are  at  the  same  time  unmis- 
takable symptoms  of  the  coming  maturity  and  freedom  of 
thought. 

The  Sentences  intensified  the  pious  mystics'  dislike  for 
the  subtleties  of  dialectics.  Graduall}^  abandoning  sys- 
tematic theology,  mysticism  turns  its  attention  to  prac- 
tical Christianity,  to  preaching  and  the  composition  of 
devotional  books ;  and  while  the  Master  of  the  Sentences 
professes  to  serve  the  Church  with  no  less  zeal  than  Robert 
of  Melun,  Walter  of  St.  Victor,  who  died  about  1180,  de- 
nounces the  Lombard,  his  pupil  Pierre  of  Poitiers,  Gilbert 
of  I^orrde,  and  Abelard,  as  the  four  lahjrinths  of  France  in 
whicli  we  must  take  care  not  to  lose  ourselves.^  But  tliis 
opposition  merely  helped  to  develop  heresy.  A  distinction 
is  made  not  onl}-  between  the  effects  of  the  divine  will  and 
the  effects  of  nature,  but  between  philosophical  truth  and 
religious  truth.  Tlie  view  begins  to  prevail  that  a  thing 
may  be  true  in  philosophy  without  being  true  in  religion, 
and  vice  versa.  A  vague  suspicion  arises  that  the  Church 
is  fallible,  and  tliat  a  l)reach  between  faith  and  science, 
theology  and  philosopliy,  is  not  impossible. 

A  number  of  critical  thinkers,  influenced  by  Arabian 
pantheism,  were  bold  enougli  to  defend  tlic  ])]iil(is()])hy  of 

*  ])u  Boulay,  Ilisloria  u)iicersitatis  I'arisiensis,  vol.  1.,  p.  Wl.. 


234  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE   MIDDLE  AGES 

immanency.  They  regarded  the  three  persons  of  the  Trin- 
ity either  as  three  successive  manifestations  of  the  Divine 
Being,  or  as  three  different  stages  in  the  development  of 
the  human  conception  of  God.  The  Father  is  the  ,God 
of  the  Ohl  Testament,  God  dwelling  in  heaven ;  the  Son  is 
the  God  of  the  New  Testament,  God  bridging  tlie  chasm 
and  coming  nearer  to  man ;  the  Holy  Ghost  is  the  God  of 
the  future,  the  true  God  conceived  as  the  universal  and 
omnipresent  Being.  God  is  everything  and  produces 
everything  in  all  things.  He  is,  therefore,  not  only  pres- 
ent in  the  consecrated  host,  but  also  in  the  daily  bread. 
His  spirit  manifested  itself  in  the  great  men  of  Greece  as 
well  as  in  the  Prophets,  Apostles,  and  Fathers.  Tliere  is 
no  other  heaven  than  a  good  conscience,  no  other  hell  than 
remorse ;  and  the  worsliip  of  saints  is  idolatry. 

These  doctrines,  which  were  ably  taught  by  Simon  of 
Tournay,  Amalric  of  Bena,  and  David  of  Dinant,^  spread 
rapidly  among  the  clergy  and  the  laity.  About  tlie  year 
1200  they  formed  a  formidable  though  secret  opposition  to 
the  supreme  authority  of  tradition.  The  Church,  seriously 
threatened  in  its  unity,  averted  the  danger  by  burning  a 
great  number  of  heretics  at  the  stake  and  anathematizing 
the  phj^sics  of  Aristotle,  from  which  David  of  Dinant  was 
accused  of  having  drawn  his  heresies  (1209). 

^  For  the  pantheistic  heresy  of  Amalric  and  David,  see  Ch. 
Schmidt,  Histoire  et  doctrine  de  la  secte  des  Cathares,  2  vols.,  Paris, 
1849. 


SECOND   PERIOD 
THE   REIGN  OF  PERIPATETIC   SCHOLASTICISM » 

A.     Semi-Realistic  Peripateticism 
8  37.     Growing  Influence  of  the  Philosophy  of  Aristotle 

We  have  pointed  out  the  relation  existing  between  Pla- 
tonic realism  and  the  Catholic  system.  In  Catholicism  as  in 
Platonism,  in  the  Chnrch  as  in  Plato's  State,  the  universal 
is  superior  to  the  particular ;  the  whole  precedes,  rules,  and 
absorbs  the  parts ;  the  Idea  is  the  true  reality,  the  power 
superior  to  all  individual  existences.  The  philosophy  of 
a  period  reflects  the  spirit  peculiar  to  that  period.  The 
heroic  age  of  Catholicism,  the  age  of  faith  which  produced 
the  Crusades  and  built  the  Gothic  cathedrals,  could  not 
but  have  an  essentially  idealistic,  Platonic,  and  Augus- 
tinian  philosophy.  Scotus  Erigena  and  St.  Anselm  were 
the  great  representatives  of  this  epoch.  But  even  in  the 
writinsfs  of  these  men,  and  still  more  so  in  those  of  their 
successors,  we  discover,  beneath  the  seeming  harmony  of 
their  jjhilosophy  and  theology,  contrasts,  disparities,  and 
contradictions.  E^rigena  culminates  in  monism  ;  William 
of  Champeaux,  in  the  philosophy  of  identity ;  Abelard,  in 
determinism ;  Alanus,  Gilbert,  and  Amalric  of  Bena,  in 
pantheism.  The  Schoolmen  of  the  period,  if  we  may  be- 
lieve them,  are  convinced  that  reason  and  tlie  dogma  agree  ; 
and  their  philosophy  merely  aims  to  prove  the  agreement 
an<l  to  justify  the  faith.  But  it  is  certain  that  from  1200 
on  this  conviction  was  gradually  sliaken.    As  soon  as  Scho- 

^  A.  .Tonrdaiii,  Reclie.rches  critiques  sur  I'df/e  el  I'orli/ltir  de;;  Irddur 
lions  Iftiiues  iV Arislote,  Paris,  1819;  L'd  ed.,  1813. 


236  PHILOSOPHY   OF   THE   MIDDLE   AGES 

lasticism  discriminated  between  philosophical  truth  and  re- 
ligious truth,  it  divided  into  the  disparate  elements  which 
it  professed  to  unite,  and  sealed  its  doom.  Scholasticism 
had  not  reached  the  climax  of  its  development  before  it 
began  to  show  symptoms  of  decay.  It  needed  a  power- 
ful stimulus  to  keep  it  alive ;  new  life  and  vigor  had  to 
be  infused  into  it  from  without ;  this  it  received  from 
Aristotle. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  thirteenth  century,  Christian 
Europe  knew  nothing  of  Aristotle's  writings  except  a  part 
of  the  Organon  in  the  Latin  translation  ascribed  to  Boethius. 
From  this  time  on,  things  rapidly  change.  About  1250, 
Robert,  Bishop  of  Lincoln,  translates  the  Nicomackean  EtJiics 
into  Latin.  The  Dominicans  Albert  of  BoUstiidt  and  St. 
Thomas  of  Aquin  write  valuable  commentaries  on  the 
Stagirite,  and  in  every  way  encourage  the  translation  of  his 
works.  But  it  is  particularly^  to  the  Arabians  ^  that  the 
Christian  Middle  Ages  owe  their  knowledge  of  his  treatises 
on  physics  and  ontology.  During  the  eleventh  and  twelfth 
centuries,  Avicenna  in  Persia  and  Averroes  in  Spain  pub- 
lish commentaries  on  them,  and  either  by  oral  teaching 
or  by  their  written  works  intensify  the  interest  for  Peri- 
patetic philosophy.  Two  royal  friends  of  letters,  Roger  II. 
of  Sicily  and  the  Emperor  Frederick  II.,  surround  them- 
selves with  Arabian  scholars,  under  whose  direction  Latin 
translations  of  Aristotle  and  his  commentators  are  made. 
These  translations  are  presented  to  the  universities  of 
Bologna,  Paris,  and  Oxford.  In  this  way  thousands  of 
students  become  acquainted  with  the  doctrines  of  the  great 
Greek.  Prior  to  this  time,  only  Aristotle  the  logician  had 
been  studied,  and  that,  too,  rather  superficiall}-.  Hence- 
forth, Aristotle  the  moralist,  the  physicist,  and  the  meta- 
physician, becomes  an  object  of  study. 

The  Aristotelian  system  was  an  innovation,  and  conse- 

1  See  p.  210,  note  2. 


GROWING  INFLUENCE  OF  PHILOSOPHY  OP  ARISTOTLE   237 

quently  the  conser^-ative  Church  had  to  combat  it.  For  was 
not  its  author  both  a  heathen  and  a  favorite  of  the  disciples  of 
the  false  prophet,  and,  therefore,  the  incarnation  of  all  anti- 
Christian  tendencies  ?  Was  he  not,  in  a  certain  measure, 
the  soiu'ce  of  the  heresies  of  David  of  Dinant  and  his  con- 
sorts ?  The  Church  condenuied  Aristotle's  treatises  on 
physics  in  1209,  and  his  Metaphysics  in  1215.  But  she 
soon  saw  the  error  of  her  ways.  From  1250  on,  she 
allowed  public  lectures  on  Aristotle  to  be  delivered  at 
Paris ;  and  fifty  years  later  the  Stagirite  became  her  offi- 
cial pliilosopher,  whom  one  could  not  contradict  without 
being  accused  of  heresy ;  he  is  the  precursor  Christi  in 
rehus  naturalihus,  sicitt  Joannes  Baptista  in  rebus  gratuitis. 
This  reaction  was  no  more  than  natural.  True,  Aristotle 
was  a  pagan  philosopher,  and  consequently  an  opponent  of 
the  faith;  but  if,  in  spite  of  that,  his  doctrine  should  be 
found  to  agree  with  the  Gospel,  it  would  add  all  the  more 
to  the  glory  of  Christ.  Aristotle  taught  the  existence  of  a 
God  apart  from  the  universe,  and  that  alone  ought  to  have 
won  him  the  sympathies  of  the  Church  threatened  by  the 
pantheistic  heresy,  which  appealed  to  Plato  for  aid. 

More  than  that ;  Aristotle  offered  the  Churcli  a  system 
wliich  she  had  the  greatest  interest  in  appropriating,  with 
certain  limitations.  The  times  had  already  become  familiar 
with  the  conception  of  nature.  They  spoke  of  nature  and 
its  course  as  opposed  to  God  and  the  effects  of  liis  will. 
Christian  thought  could  not  help  returning  to  this  funda- 
mental conception  of  science,  in  the  course  of  its  develop- 
ment, wliile  the  Church  could  no  more  oppose  it  than  she 
could  hinder  the  formation  of  the  European  States.  Slie 
could  not  destroy  these  States,  and  tlierefore  made  them 
subject  to  herself;  she  was  unal)le  to  extirpate  the  con- 
ception of  nature,  and  tlierefore  drew  it  into  lier  service. 
Now,  the  metaphysics  of  Aristotle  was  adniiral)ly  fitted  for 
such  a  [)ur[)OS('.     For,  does  not  Aristotle  regard  nature  as  a 


238  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE   MIDDLE  AGES 

hierarchical  system  of  which  God  —  and  consequently  the 
Church  —  is  both  the  basis  and  the  summit  ?  With  the 
admirable  tact  which  seldom  failed  her,  Catholicism  recog- 
nized Aristotle  in  order  to  make  capital  out  of  him. 

But  the  chief  advantaofe  resultinof  from  an  alliance  with 
Peripatetic  philosophy  was  the  following:  As  soon  as 
Aristotle's  system  received  recognition  as  the  only  authen- 
tic expression  of  human  reason,  its  authority  naturally  tran- 
scended that  of  free  thought.  Hence  Peripateticism  gave 
tlie  Church  a  still  better  means  of  regulating  Scholastic  phi- 
losophy than  she  already  possessed.  During  the  Platonic 
period  thought  enjoyed  a  relative  independence ;  its  ob- 
ject was  to  prove  the  agreement  between  the  dogma  and 
natural  reason ;  and,  as  we  have  seen,  it  was  quite  rational- 
istic in  the  performance  of  this  task.  Henceforth  the  ques- 
tion no  longer  is  to  prove  the  agreement  between  the 
dogma  and  natural  reason,  but  its  agreement  with  the 
letter  of  Aristotle's  writings.  The  proof  of  this  agree- 
ment makes  Aristotle  the  highest  authority  and  his  system 
the  official  criterion  of  a  philosopher's  orthodoxy.  Aristotle 
still  stands  for  reason,  but  reason  now  is  disciplined  and  re- 
duced to  a  fixed  code.  Left  to  itself,  reason  is  a  change- 
able authority,  and  its  agreement  with  faith  not  necessarily 
a  settled  fact.  What  to  St.  Anselm  seemed  agreement, 
Abelard,  Gilbert,  Amalric,  and  David  regarded  as  contra- 
dictory. The  mind  is  mobile,  revolutionary ;  the  letter  is 
eminently  conservative.  By  adopting  the  philosophy  of 
Aristotle,  the  Church  made  use  of  the  most  illustrious 
thinker  in  order  to  enslave  thought. 

The  advantages  arising  from  this  alliance  with  Peripa- 
tetic philosophy  were,  it  is  true,  accompanied  by  disadvan- 
tages that  became  serious  dangers  in  the  sequel.  In  the 
first  place,  the  truth  of  the  dogma  was  proved  by  its  agree- 
ment with  Aristotle ;  this  raised  the  authority  of  Aristotle 
and  philosophy  above  the  authority  of  the  Church.     Then 


PERIPATETICS   OF  THE  THlRtEENTH  CENTURY      239 

the  influence  of  the  Stagirite  necessarily  introduced  into 
Sehohisticism  a  new  element,  not  very  favorahle  to  the 
spiritual  omnipotence  of  the  Chui-ch :  the  taste  for  science 
and  the  spirit  of  analysis. 

§  38.     The  Peripatetics  of  the  Thirteenth  Century 

The  Church  was  converted  to  Peripateticism  by  a  num- 
ber of  eminent  thinkers  who  were  less  original  than  St. 
Anselm  and  Abelard,  but,  owing  to  the  more  abundant 
material  at  their  disposal,  more  learned  than  their  prede- 
cessors. At  their  head  stands  the  Englishman  Alex- 
A^'DER  OF  Hales,!  professor  of  theology  at  Paris,  whose 
commentaries  on  the  Sentences  of  Peter  the  Lombard  and 
the  De  anima  of  Aristotle  won  for  him  the  title  doctor 
irrefragahilis. 

William  of  Auvergne,  Bishop  of  Paris,^  whose  learn- 
ing equalled  that  of  Alexander,  wrote  a  series  of  treatises 
inspired  by  Aristotle,  and  a  voluminous  work,  De  universo, 
a  kind  of  metaphysics,  the  wonderful  erudition  of  which 
proves  that  the  author  was  thorouglily  acquainted  with  the 
Arabian  commentaries  on  the  Stagirite.  His  Peripatetic 
leanings,  however,  did  not  hinder  him  from  denying  the 
eternity  of  the  world,  nor  from  believing  in  creation,  Prov- 
idence, and  the  immortality  of  the  soul. 

The  Dominican  Vincext  of  Beauvais,^  the  teacher  of 
the  sons  of  St.  Louis,  gathers  the  treasures  of  learning  and 
of  Peripatetic  speculation  in  his  Speculum  quadruplex :  na- 
turale,  doctrinale,  morale,  et  liistoriale.  He  cites  almost  all 
the  writings  of  Aristotle,  and  already  speaks  triumphantly 
of  tlie  nova  loyica  as  opposed  to  the    logica  fetus.     He  is  an 

'   Dif'il  Vl\'>.     Summa  unirerscE  thcolofi'ict,  Venice,  L")70. 

2  I)if;d  1210.  Opera,  ed.  Blaise  Leferon,  (Jrleans,  1071;  [N.  Valois, 
Guillawne  d'Auuergne,  Paris,  l.S8()]. 

*  Died  1204.  Speculum  fii.ctriitdle,  Straslmri^,  1173;  S/x-culntn  tjun- 
thupler,  clr.,  1021. 


240  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE   MIDDLE  AGES 

open  adherent  of  the  Lyceum  on  the  subject  of  universals, 
which  still  forms  the  chief  topic  of  discussion  among  the 
Schoolmen,  and  declares  with  Abelard :  Universale  in  re. 
Universals  are  real,  even  more  real  than  particulars,  with- 
out, however,  existing  independently  of  particulars.  As  in 
the  system  of  Abelard,  universals  and  particulars  are  no 
longer  abstractly  and  mechanically  juxtaposed  in  the  meta- 
physics of  Vincent,  but  are  joined  together  by  the  principle 
of  individuation  {incorporatio).  A  new  terminology  is  used 
by  this  Schoolman  to  express  Aristotelian  conceptions. 
The  Ti  ean  of  Aristotle,  for  example,  becomes  the  quidditas. 
The  philosophical  vocabulary  is  developed  and  enriched  at 
the  expense  of  Ciceronian  Latin,  which  the  Renaissance 
afterwards  undertakes  to  rescue  from  the  neglect  of  the 
School. 

Though  a  realist,  in  so  far  as  he  regards  the  universal  as 
a  reality,  Vincent  makes  an  important  advance  towards 
nominalism  by  distinguishing  between  universale  meta- 
phi/sicum  and  universale  logicnm,  i.  e.,  between  the  specific 
type  which  really  exists  in  the  individuals  composing  the 
species  and  the  general  notion  which  corresponds  to  this 
type,  and  is  but  an  abstraction  of  thought.  This  distinc- 
tion is  a  nominalistic  deviation  from  realism,  for  the  pure 
realism  of  Champeaux  and  Anselm  absolutely  iden- 
tifies the  specific  type  and  the  general  idea.  It  is,  how- 
ever, far  from  being  pure  nominalism,  for  nominalism  is 
the  absolute  negation  of  the  universale  metaphysictnn  as  an 
objective  reality. 

Another  Dominican,  who  has  already  been  mentioned,^ 
Albert  of  Bollstadt,^  wrote  commentaries  on  most  of 
Aristotle's  works,  and  labored  with  untiring  zeal  for  the 

1  §  37. 

2  Albertus  Magnus,  died  at  Cologne  in  1280.  Opera,  ed.  by  P. 
Jammy,  Lyons,  1651  (21  folio  vols.).  [J.  Sighart,  Albertus  Magnus, 
etc.,  Regensburg,  1857;  Eng.  tr.  by  Dixon,  1876.] 


ST.   THOMAS   OF  AQUIN  241 

propagation  of  the  Peripatetic  philosophy.  He  manifests 
a  remarkable  taste  for  natural  science,  in  which  respect 
he  anticipates  Roger  Bacon,  Raymundus  Lullus,  and  the 
scientilic  Renaissance.  We  see  how  danp-erous  the  Peri- 
patetic  alliance  proved  to  the  Church  ! 

The  Franciscan  John  of  Fidaiiza,  known  as  St.  Bona- 
VENTUKA,^  is  less  learned  and  less  interested  in  nature,  but 
more  speculative  than  Albert.  He  admires  both  Aristotle 
and  Plato,  rational  philosophy  and  contemplative  mysti- 
cism, piet}'  and  knowledge,  thus  uniting  in  liis  person  two 
elements  which  were  growing  farther  and  farther  apart. 
The  Church  recognized  his  services  by  canonizing  him,  and 
the  School  bestowed  upon  him  the  title  of  doctor  seraphicus. 

Filially,  two  illustrious  rivals  complete  the  Peripatetic 
galaxy  of  the  tliirteenth  century  and  finish  the  work  of 
conciliation  between  the  Church  and  the  Lyceum :  the 
Dominican  St.  Thomas  of  Aquin  and  the  Franciscan  Duns 
Scotus. 

§  39.     St.  Thomas  of  Aquin 

THo:yrAS  of  Aquin  2  (Aquino),  the  son  of  a  noble  family 
in  the  kingdom  of  Naples,  preferring  the  peaceful  pleas- 

^  Died  127-4.  Author  of  a  Commentary  on  the  Sentences  of  the  Lom- 
bard, of  an  Itinerarium  mentis  in  Dewn,  conceived  in  the  spirit  of  the 
mystics  of  St.  Victor,  etc.  Edition  of  Strasburg,  1482,  Rome,  1588,  ff., 
etc.;  [K.  Werner,  Die  Psychologic  imd  Erkenntnisshhre  dcs  Bouav&ntura, 
Vienna,  1876.] 

2  Opera  omnia,  Rome,  1570  (18  foHo  vols.);  Venice,  1504;  Ant- 
werp, 1612;  Paris,  1660;  Venice,  1787;  Parma  (25  vols.),  1852-71; 
[Thomas  Aquinads  opera  omnia  jussn  impensaque  Leonis  XITl.,  P.  M. 
edila,  vols.  I.  &  II.,  Rome  (Freiburg  i.  H.),  1882,  84];  Ch.  Joiudain, 
La  philosophic  de  Saint  Thomas  d' A qtiin,  Pari.s,  1858;  Cacheux,  De  la 
philosophic  dc  Saint  lltouias,  Pari.s,  1858;  [Karl  'NAVrner,  Der  hcUiqe 
Thomas  von  Aquino,  3  vols.,  Regen.slnirg,  1858  IT. ;  Z.  Gonzales,  Estudios 
sobre  la  filosofia  dc  S.  Tmnds,  3  vols.,  Manila,  1864  (Cu-nnan  translation 
by  C.  J.  \olte,  Regen.sburg,  1885).  —  Tu.]  He  was  called  doctor 
aufjellcus. 

16 


242  PHILOSOPHY   OF  THE   MIDDLE   AGES 

ures  of  study  to  the  adventurous  life  of  a  feudal  lord, 
entered  the  order  of  St.  Dominic,  in  spite  of  the  formal  pro- 
tests of  his  father.  On  the  eye  of  his  departure  from  Italy 
to  Paris,  he  was  kidnapped  by  his  brothers  and  imprisoned 
in  the  paternal  castle,  from  wliich  he  managed  to  escape 
two  years  later.  Taking  up  his  abode  at  Cologne,  he  be- 
came an  enthusiastic  disciple  of  Albert  the  Great  and  a 
profound  student  of  Aristotle.  Henceforth  all  his  efforts 
were  directed  towards  acquainting  tiie  Christian  Occident 
with  the  Aristotelian  philosophy  as  set  forth  in  the  Greek 
text,  particularly  with  the  Physics  and  Metaphysics^  of 
which  only  Latin  translations  made  from  Arabian  trans- 
lations were  known.  He  afterwards  returned  to  the 
Peninsula,  where  he  died  in  1274,  scarcely  fifty  years 
of  age. 

Philosophy  is  indebted  to  him  for  a  series  of  treatises 
bearing  on  the  metaphysics  of  Aristotle  (Opuscula  de  materia; 
natura,  de  ente  et  essentia,  de  jprincipiis  naturce,  de  jjrincijno 
individuationis,  de  universalihus,  etc.).  His  Summa  theologies, 
which  gradually  eclipsed  the  Sentences  of  Peter  the  Lom- 
bard, forms  the  basis  of  the  dogmatic  teachings  of  the 
Chiu'ch, 

The  philosophy  of  St.  Thomas  has  no  other  aim  than  the 
faithful  reproduction  of  the  principles  of  the  Lyceum.  We 
are  therefore  interested,  not  so  much  in  the  contents,  as  in 
the  Neo-Latin  form  in  which  the  ideas  of  the  Stagirite  are 
expressed.  Our  modern  philosophical  vocabulary  is  in  part 
derived  from  the  system  of  St.  Thomas. 

Philosophy  proper  or  the  'first  philosophy  has  for  its  ob- 
ject being  as  such  (ens  in  quantum  ens  =  to  ovfj  6v).  There 
are  two  kinds  of  beings  {entia) :  objective,  real,  essential 
beings  (esse  in  re),  and  beings  that  are  mere  abstractions  of 
thought  or  negations,  such,  for  example,  as  poverty,  blind- 
ness, and  imperfection  in  general.  Poverty,  blindness, 
and  privation  exist ;   they  are  entia  (ovtu),  but  not  essen- 


ST.  THOMAS  OF  AQUIN  243 

tice  {ovaiat)}  Essences,  substances,  or  beings  properly 
so  called  {essentia^  substanticc)  are,  in  turn,  divided  into 
simple  or  pui'e  essences,  and  essences  composed  of  form 
and  matter.  There  is  but  one  simple  essence  or  pure  form : 
God.     All  the  rest  are  composed  of  matter  and  form. 

Matter  and  form  are  both  beings  (entia) ;  they  differ 
from  each  other  in  that  form  is  in  actic,  while  matter 
is  as  yet  merely  in  j^otentia.  In  a  general  sense,  matter 
is  everything  tliat  can  be,  everything  that  exists  in  pos- 
sibility. According  as  the  possible  thing  is  a  substance  or 
an  accident,  metaphysics  distinguishes  between  materia  ex 
qua  oliquid  fit  (potential,  substantial  being,  —  example:  the 
human  seed  is  materia  ex  qua  homo  fit,  a  potential  man) 
and  materia  in  qua  aliquid  fit  (potential  accident,  —  exam- 
ple :  man  is  materia,  in  qua  gignitur  intdlectus).  Materia 
ex  qua  does  not  exist  in  itself;  materia  in  qua  exists  as  a 
relatively-independent  subject  {suhjectum).  The  form  is 
what  gives  being  to  a  thing.^  According  as  this  thing  is  a 
substance  or  an  accident,  we  have  to  deal  with  a  substan- 
tial form  or  an  accidental  form.  The  union  of  matter  {esse 
in  potentia)  and  form  {esse  in  actii)  is  generatio  Q^iveadai)^ 
whicli  is,  in  turn,  substantial  generation  or  accidental  gen- 
eration. All  forms,  God  excepted,  are  united  with  matter 
and  individualized  by  it,  constituting  genera,  species,  and 
individuals.^ 

Only  the  form  of  forms  remains  immatci'ial  and  is  sub- 
ject neither  to  generation  noi-  decay.  The  more  imperfect 
a  form  is,  the  more  it  tends  to  increase  tlie  number  of  in- 
dividuals realizing  it ;  the  more  perfect  a  form  is,  the  less 
it  multiplies  its  individuals.  The  form  of  forms  is  no 
longer  a  species  composed  of  separate  individuals,  but  a 
single  being  within  whicli  all  differences  of  person  are 
constantly  merged  in  tlie  unity  of  essence.     Since  God 

^  Opuxcxilum  (If.  entc.  el  fssfnlin. 

^  Opusc.  <lc  jiiin'i/iiis  iKilttrre.  8  j,] ^  q   3_ 


244  PHILOSOPHY   OF   THE   MIDDLE   AGES 

alone  is  pure  form  [actus  'pu-'us)^  without  matter  and  con- 
sequently without  imperfection  (matter  being  that  Avhicli 
does  not  yet  exist,  or  the  lack  of  being),  God  alone  is  the 
perfect  arid  complete  knowledge  of  thingSo^  He  possesses 
absolute  truth  because  he  is  absolute  truth.  Truth  is  the 
agreement  of  thought  with  its  object.  In  man,  there  is 
more  or  less  agreement  between  thoughts  and  objects ; 
they  are,  however,  never  identical.  God's  ideas  not  only 
exactly  reproduce  the  things,  they  are  the  things  them- 
selves. Things  first  exist,  and  then  man  thinks  them  :  in 
God,  thought  precedes  the  things,  which  exist  only  because 
and  as  he  thinks  them.  Hence  there  is  no  difference  in 
him  between  thought  and  being;  and,  since  this  identity 
of  knowledge  and  its  object  constitutes  truth,  God  is  truth 
itself.  From  the  fact  that  he  is  the  truth  it  follows  that 
he  exists ;  for  it  is  not  possible  to  deny  the  existence  of 
truth ;  the  very  persons  who  deny  it  assume  a  reason  for 
doing  so,  and  thus  maintain  its  existence.^ 

The  demonstration  of  the  existence  of  God  is  the  first 
and  principal  task  of  philosophy.  Pliilosophy  could  not, 
however,  perform  this  task,  or  even  have  a  conception  of 
God,  had  not  the  Creator  first  revealed  himself  to  man  in 
Jesus  Christ.  In  order  that  the  human  mind  might  direct 
its  efforts  towards  its  real  goal,  it  was  necessary  for  God 
to  point  it  out,  that  is,  to  reveal  himself  to  humanity  at 
the  very  beginning.  No  philosophy  is  legitimate  that  does 
not  take  revelation  for  its  starting-point  and  return  to  it  as 
its  final  goal :  it  is  true  only  when  it  is  ancilla  e.cclesim,  and, 
in  so  far  as  Aristotle  is  the  precursor  of  Christ  in  the  scien- 
tific sphere,  ancilla  Aristotelis.  The  Church  of  God  is  the 
goal  towards  which  all  things  tend  here  below. 

Nature  is  a  hierarchy  in  which  each  stage  is  the  form  of 
the  lower  stage  and  the  matter  of  the  higher  stage.     The 

1  Summa  theologice,  I.,  question  4. 

2  I<1.,  question  2,  article  1. 


ST.   THOMAS   OF  AQUIN  245 

hierarchy  of  bodies  is  completed  in  the  natural  life  of  mail, 
and  this  life,  in  turn,  becomes  the  foundation,  and,  in  a 
certain  measure,  the  material  for  a  higher  life,  the  spiritual 
life,  wliich  is  developed  in  the  shadow  of  the  Clmreh  and 
nourished  by  its  Word  and  its  sacraments,  as  the  natural 
life  is  nourished  by  the  bread  of  the  earth.  The  realm  of 
nature  is  therefore  to  the  realm  of  grace,  the  natural  man 
to  the  Christian,  philosophy  to  tlreology,  matter  to  the  sacra- 
ment, the  State  to  the  Church,  and  the  Emperor  to  the 
Pope,  what  the  means  are  to  the  end,  the  plan  to  the  exe- 
cution, the  potcntia  to  the  actus. 

The  imiverse,  which  consists  of  the  two  realms  of  nature 
and  of  grace,  is  the  best  possible  world.  For  God  in  his 
inthiite  wisdom  conceived  the  best  of  worlds ;  he  could  not 
have  created  a  less  perfect  world  without  detracting  from 
his  wisdom.  To  say  that  God  conceived  perfection  and 
realized  an  imperfect  world  would  presuppose  an  opposi- 
tion between  knowledge  and  will,  between  the  ideal  prin- 
ciple and  the  real  principle  of  things,  ^hich  contradicts 
thought  as  well  as  faith.  Hence  the  divine  will  is  not  a 
will  of  inchfference,  and  the  freedom  of  God,  far  from  being 
S}Tionymous  with  caprice  and  chance,  is  identical  with 
necessity. 

In  spite  of  seeming  contradictions,  tlie  same  is  true  of 
the  human  will.  Just  as  the  intellect  has  a  ])iineij)le  (lea- 
son)  which  it  cannot  discard  without  ceasing  to  l)e  itself, 
the  will  has  a  principle  from  Avhich  it  cannot  deviate  with- 
out ceasing  to  be  free :  the  good.  The  will  necessarily 
tends  to  the  good ;  but  sensuality  tends  to  evil  and  thus 
paralyzes  the  efforts  of  the  will.  Hence  sin  arises,  which 
has  its  source,  not  in  the  freedom  of  indifference  or  of 
choice,  but  in  sensuality,^  Tliere  is  moral  predestina- 
tion, but  not  arl)itrary  yn-edcstination,  for  the  divine  will 
itself  is  suborflinated  to  reason.  Dclcnniuism  extended 
1  Suimna  theolut/iie,  <iuestion  b'2;   Contra  (jcul'dts,  III. 


246  PHILOSOPHY   OF  THE   MIDDLE   AGES 

to  God  loses  the  offensive  character  which  it  had  in  the 
theology  of  St.  Augustine. 

The  system  of  St.  Thomas  marks  both  the  climax  of  the 
development  of  Catholic  metaphysics  and  the  beginning  of 
its  fall.     Before  the  days  of  St.  Thomas,  Scholastic  philos- 
ophy had  shown  symptoms  of  decline ;    in  him  it  shines 
with  a  light  before  Avhich  the  most  illustrious  names  pale. 
His  devotion  to  the  Church  and  its  interests,  his  philosophi- 
cal talents,  which  he  employs  in  the  service  of  Catholicism, 
and  his  faith  in  the  perfect  harmony  between  the  dogma 
and  philosophical  truth  as  set  forth  in  Aristotle,  make  him 
the  most  typical  doctor  of  the  Church  after  St.  Augustine 
and  St.  Anselni.      But    his    faith,   ardent    though  it   be, 
does  not  possess   the  strength  of  an  unshakable  convic- 
tion;    it  is  rather  a  willed  faith,   an  energetic  will  con- 
stantly struggling  against  the  thousand  difficulties  Avhich 
reflection  throws  in  its  way.    From  St.  Thomas  downwards, 
reason  and  Catholic  faith,  official  theology  and  philosopliy, 
are  differentiated  and  become  more  or  less  clearly  con- 
scious of  their  respective  principles  and  interests.     Meta- 
physics   continued,    for    a    long   time,    to    be    subject   to 
theology;    but   though   dependent,    it    henceforth   had   a 
separate  existence,  a  sphere  of  activity  of  its  own. 

Pliilosophy  proper  receives  its  official  sanction,  as  it 
were,  by  the  organization  of  the  four  Parisian  faculties,  an 
event  wdiich  occurred  during  the  lifetime  of  St.  Thomas. 
This  period  marks  the  decline  of  Scholasticism.  The 
theologians  themselves,  with  John  Duns  Scotus  at  their 
head,  do  all  they  can  do  to  hasten  it. 

§  40.     Duns  Scotus 

JoHX  Duns  Scotus  of  Dunston  (Northumberland),  a 
monk  of  the  order  of  St.  Francis,  professor  of  philosophy 
and  theology  at  Oxford  and  Paris,  was  the  most  industri- 


DUNS  SCOTUS  247 

ous  among  the  Schoolmen.  Although  he  tiled  at  the  age 
of  thirty-four  (1308),  his  writings  fill  a  dozen  volumes.^ 

We  have  just  seen  how  philosophy  was  officially  recog- 
nized as  a  science  distinct  from  theology.  During  the 
times  of  Duns  Scotus,  i.  e.,  about  the  end  of  the  tliirteenth 
century,  philosophy  formed  an  independent  science  by  the 
side  of  theology,  and  even  dared  to  oppose  the  latter.  The 
philosophers,  said  Duns  Scotus,  differ  from  the  theologians 
as  to  whether  man  has  any  need  of  acquiring,  by  super- 
natural means,  knowledge  wliich  his  reason  cannot  attain 
by  natural  means.  This  statement  not  only  shows  the 
existence  of  a  philosophy  that  is  independent  of  theology, 
but  the  disagreement  which  has  existed  between  philoso- 
phers and  theologians  ever  since. 

Duns  Scotus,  like  a  genuine  Schoolman,  occupies  a 
position  between  the  two  camps.  With  the  theologians 
he  recognizes  the  need  of  revelation ;  but  he  agrees  with 
the  philosophers  that  St.  Augustine  is  wrong  in  assuming 
that  man  can  know  absolutely  nothing  of  God  without 
supernatural  revelation.  With  the  theologians  he  de- 
clares that  the  Bible  and  the  teachings  of  the  Church  are 
the  supreme  norms  of  pliilosophic  thought ;  but  he  is,  on 
the  other  hand,  a  philosopher  and  a  rationalist  to  the  ex- 
tent of  believing  in  the  authority  of  the  Bible  and  of 
ecclesiastical  tradition,  only  because  the  doctrines  of  the 
Bible  and  the  Church  conform  to  reason.  Hence  reason  is, 
in  his  eyes,  the  liighest  authority,  and  the  sacred  texts  have 
for  him  but  a  derived,  conditional,  and  relative  authority. 
With  this  as  his  guiding  principle,  he  does  what  no  School- 
man had  done  before  him :  he  attempts  to  prove  the  credi- 
bility of  Holy  Writ,  and,  in  choosing  his  arguments,  he  evi- 
dently gives  the  preference  to  the  internal  ])roofs.2 

1  Opera  omnia,  Lyons,  1639.     For  the  system  of  Duns  Scotus,  see 
Rittcr,  Vol.  Vlir.;  [Werner,  Stiickr. 
'  D.  S    f/i  Mdfjifitnim  spnfi'nlltiruin. 


248  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

The  more  familiar  we  become  with  Schohistic  literature, 
the  less  apt  are  we  to  exaggerate  the  progress  of  free 
thought  from  the  thirteenth  to  the  nineteenth  centuries. 
The  historians  who  endeavor  to  trace  all  modern  negations 
to  the  Reformation  ignore,  or  affect  to  ignore,  the  fact  that 
in  the  ninth  century  the  Catholic  Scotus  Erigena  denied 
eternal  punislmient ;  that  in  the  twelfth,  the  Catholic  Abe- 
lard  declared  the  teachings  of  the  Greek  philosophers  to  be 
superior  to  those  of  the  Old  Testament ;  that  in  the  thir- 
teenth, a  great  number  of  Catholics  refused  to  believe  in 
the  miraculous  conception  and  in  the  resurrection  of  Christ ; 
til  at  in  the  same  century,  or  two  hundred  years  before  the 
Reformation,  and  at  a  time  when  the  power  of  the  Holy 
See  was  at  its  height,  St.  Thomas  and  Duns  Scotus  found 
themselves  obliged  to  prove,  with  all  the  arts  of  logic,  the 
need  of  revelation  and  the  credibility  of  the  Divine  Word ; 
finally,  that  these  submissive,  devoted,  and  orthodox  doc- 
tors of  the  Church  combined  with  their  Clnistian  convic- 
tions a  freedom  of  thought,  the  like  of  which  is  but  rarely 
met  with  in  the  Protestant  theology  of  the  seventeenth 
century. 

The  Thomistic  system  borders  on  pantheism,  while  the 
philosophy  of  Duns  Scotus  is  decidedlyPelagian ;  the  illus- 
trious Dominican  sacrifices  the  freedom  of  the  individual 
to  the  great  glory  of  God ;  while  the  Franciscan  doctor 
believes  that  he  is  rendering  God  a  no  less  signal  service 
by  exalting  the  individual  and  free-will  at  the  expense  of 
grace. 

Duns  Scotus  serves  the  order  to  wliich  he  belongs  as 
faithfully  as  his  God  and  the  Church.  The  great  mediaeval 
orders  are  the  forerunners  of  the  theological  parties  of 
Protestantism.  They  are,  at  present,  merged  in  the  indi- 
visible unity  of  the  Roman  orthodoxy ;  during  the  period 
of  which  we  are  speaking,  they  Avere  real  parties,  opposed 
to  each  other,  not  only  on  practical  questions,  but  on  points 


DUNS  SCOTUS  249 

of  doctrine  Avliich  do  not,  even  now,  strike  us  as  secondary. 
The  rivalry  between  these  two  orders  often  infused  new 
life  into  Scholasticism.  The  contest  between  Duns  Scotus 
and  the  Scotists  against  Thomism  really  represents  a  strug- 
gle for  Church  supremacy  between  two  powerful  orders. 
The  glory  reflected  upon  the  Franciscan  order  by  St. 
Bonaventura  was  dimmed  by  the  fame  of  the  Dominicans, 
Albert  the  Great  and  Thomas  of  Aquin.  Jealous  of  the 
good  name  of  his  order,  Duns  Scotus  endeavors  to  expose 
and  refute  what  he  calls  the  errors  of  Thomism.  Thomas 
remaining  true  to  the  dogmatic  and  didactic  tenets  of  his 
order,  is  the  apostle  of  faith  and  grace.  Duns  Scotus, 
whose  heart  is  also  hlled  with  the  spirit  of  liis  order,  —  a 
spirit  of  living  and  practical  piety,  —  becomes  the  apostle 
of  action,  meritorious  works,  and  human  freedom.  With 
an  acumen  that  is  wholly  in  keeping  with  his  title,  doctor 
subtilis^  he  undertakes  the  criticism  of  St.  Thomas. 

Thomistic  determinism,  assuming  as  it  does  the  superi- 
ority of  the  intellect  over  the  will,  has  the  true  ring  of 
Catholic  philosophy.  By  benchng  the  will  beneath  the  yoke 
of  an  absolute  principle,  it  humiliates  the  self-love  of  the 
individual,  desti'oys  his  confidence  in  his  own  powers,  and 
makes  him  conscious  of  his  insignificance.  But  when  the 
foundations  of  the  system  are  laid  bare  they  are  found  to 
be  very  weak.  Thus,  on  the  one  hand,  it  makes  God  liim- 
self  a  relative  being,  whose  will  is  the  slave  of  his  intelli- 
gence. On  the  other  hand,  it  does  more  than  humiliate 
the  individual:  it  discourages  him  and  cbives  him  to 
despair  or  moral  indifference.  Should  the  Church  adopt 
this  system,  it  would  without  fail  soon  cease  to  be  the 
sanctuary  of  virtue  and  the  mother  of  saints.  Hence  the 
jyrimacy  of  the  intelligence  must  be  opposed  by  tliat  of 
the  will,^  and  for  determinism  we  nuist  sul)stitute  tlie  true 

1  Tilt!  voluntarism  Q^  Duns  Scotus  is  to  tli<;  intclltcliKilIsm  of  'I'lioiniis 
what  the  Kant  of  the  Criti'jue  of  /'radical  Rcaaon  is  to  Uic  Kant  of  the 


250  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE   MIDDLE  AGES 

philosophy  and  the  real  thought  of  Aristotle:  the  doctrine 
of  divine  and  human  liberty. 

If  we  would  not  confuse  t\o  true  God  with  the  Fate  or 
the  natura  naturans  of  the  Neo-Platonists,  we  cannot  hold, 
with  the  Thoniists,  that  the  world  is  the  necessary  product 
of  his  essence,  his  intelligence  or  his  will.  God  created  the 
world  by  an  act  of  freedom.  It  would  have  been  possible 
for  liim  not  to  create  it.  His  will  was  not  inclined  that 
way  by  any  higher  principle,  for  it  is  itself  the  highest 
principle  of  divine  acts.  The  existence  of  the  world,  far 
from  being  necessary,  is  the  free  effect  of  the  free  will  of 
God.i  Abelard  is  therefore  wrong  in  assuming  that  God 
could  create  only  what  he  created,  and  that  what  he  cre- 
ated he  created  necessarily ;  and  Thomas  is  in  error  when 
he  teaches  that  the  world  is  necessarily  the  best  possible 
world.  God  does  not  create  all  that  he  can  create;  he 
creates  only  what  he  desires  to  call  into  existence. 

The  first  cause  of  things,  the  divine  will,  is  consequently 
also  the  supreme  law  of  created  spirits.  Goodness,  jus- 
tice, and  the  moral  law  are  absolute,  only  in  so  far  as  they 
are  willed  by  God ;  if  they  were  absolute  independently  of 
the  divine  will,  God's  power  would  be  limite  !  by  a  law  not 
depending  on  him,  and  he  would  no  longer  be  the  highest 
freedom  or,  consequently,  the  Supreme  Being.  In  reality, 
the  good  is  therefore  the  good,  only  because  it  is  God's 
pleasure  that  it  should  be  so.^  God  could,  by  virtue  of  his 
supreme  libert}^,  supersede  the  moral  law  which  now  gov- 
erns us  by  a  new  law,  as  he  superseded  the  Mosaic  law  by 
that  of  the  Gospel ;  above  all,  he  could  —  and  who  knows 
but  what  he  really  does  in  many  cases  ?  —  exempt  us  from 
doing  good  without  our  ceasing,  on  that  account,  to  be 

Critique  of  Pure  Reason,  and  what  the  panthelism  of  Schopenhauer  is 
to  the  panlogism  of  Hegel. 

1  In  ilf .  sentent.,  I.,  distinction,  39,  question,  1. 

2  Id.,  distinction  44. 


DTOvS  SCOTUS  251 

good.  In  the  creation  as  in  the  government  of  the  world, 
God  knows  no  other  hiw,  no  other  rule,  no  other  principle, 
than  his  own  freedom.  And  it  is  because  he  is  free  to 
exempt  us,  in  case  he  so  desii-es,  from  carrying  out  any 
particular  law  of  the  moral  code  that  the  Church  in  tui-n 
has  the  right  to  grant  dispensations.  If  God  is  not  abso- 
lutely free  in  tins  matter,  as  he  is  in  all  things ;  if  he  is, 
as  Thomas  of  Aquin  claims,  a  being  absolutely  determined 
in  his  will  by  his  supreme  wisdom,  what  becomes  of  the 
right  of  indulgences  ?  Like  God,  man  is  free  ;  the  Fall  did 
not  deprive  him  of  free-will ;  he  has  formal  freedom,  i.  e., 
he  may  will  or  not  will ;  and  he  has  laatcrial  freedom,  i.  e., 
he  can  will  A.  or  will  B.  (freedom  of  choice  or  indifference). 

These  doctrines,  though  diametrically  opposed  to  St. 
Augustine's,  could  not  be  disagreeable  to  the  Church,  the 
Pelagian  tendencies  of  which  they  reflected  and  encour- 
aged. But  they  concealed  a  danger,  and  the  Church,  which 
failed  to  canonize  Duns  Scotus,  seems  to  have  appreciated 
it.  By  Iris  emphatic  affirmation  of  individual  liberty,  the 
subtle  doctor  proclaimed  a  new  principle,  an  anti-authori- 
tative power,  which  grew  from  century  to  century,  and 
finally  led  to  the  emancipation  of  the  religious  conscience 
and  the  downfall  of  ecclesiastical  tradition  as  the  su- 
preme autliority  in  matters  of  faith  and  conscience.  So, 
too,  on  the  subject  of  universals,  Duns  Scotus  approaches 
nominalism  and  empiricism,  though  striving  to  remain  true 
to  the  realistic  and  rationalistic  system  upheld  by  the 
Church.  All  his  sympathies  are,  at  bottom,  for  the  indi- 
vidual ;  for  the  will  is  his  principle ;  and  though  reason  is 
common  to  all,  the  will  is  what  characterizes  the  individual. 
The  question  of  individuation  is  his  favorite  problem.  His 
contemporaiy,  Heniy  Goethals,^  following  the  exami)le  of 
William  of  Chainpeaux,  regarded  the  principle  of  individu- 

1  l-217-l-'!'o.  Quodlihela  theologica,V[\\\\\b\>^\  Sunima  lliml.,  Vnrh, 
1520;   I'cirara,  I'ilG. 


252  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE   MIDDLE   AGES 

ation  as  a  mere  negation ;  while  St.  Thomas  based  it  on 
matter  (the  non-being).  Duns  Scotus,  however,  declares 
it  to  be  a  positive  jDrinciple,  and  gives  it  the  name  of 
lioecceitas.  The  individual  is,  according  to  him,  the  sum  of 
two  equally  positive  and  real  principles  :  the  quidditas  (the 
universal,  or  the  type  common  to  the  individuals  of  one  and 
the  same  species)  and  the  Jtcecceitas,  the  principle  of  the 
individuality  or  of  the  difference  of  individuals.  The  quid- 
ditas has  no  reality  apart  from  the  hceeceitas,  nor  the  hccc- 
ceitas  apart  from  the  quidditas.  Reality  is  found  in  the 
union  of  the  two  principles,  of  the  ideal  and  the  real,  that 
is,  in  the  individual. 

By  his  doctrines  of  individual  liberty  and  Jicecceitas  Duns 
Scotus  paves  the  way  for  the  nominalism  of  his  disciple 
Occam.  His  doctrine  of  accidental  creation  hastens  the 
rupture  between  science  and  the  authoritative  rationalism 
of  the  Church,  and  the  advent  of  modern  empiricism ;  for 
if  the  law^  of  nature  and  the  moral  law  itself  are  contin- 
gent, all  science  and  morality  itself  depend  on  experience 
as  their  only  basis.  To  place  the  will  in  the  first  rank  in 
metaphysics  and  reason  in  the  second,  means  to  subordinate 
reasoning  to  the  methods  of  observation  and  experience. 
Duns  Scotus  not  only  hastens  the  breach  between  science 
and  dogma ;  but,  the  breach  seems  to  be  already  made 
when,  in  his  Qumstioncs  subtilissimw.,  he  rejects  innate 
ideas,  and  declares  the  proof  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul 
and  of  the  existence  of  God  to  be  impossible  from  the 
standpoint  of  science. 

B.    NoRirtsTALisTic  Pekipateticism 

§  41.     Reappearance  of  Nominalism.     Durand,  Occam, 
Buridan,  D'Ailly 

The  distance  from  the  conceptualism  of  Vincent  of  Beau- 
vais,  Thomas  of  Aquin,  and  Duns  Scotus  to  nominalism  is 


KEAPPEARANCE   OF   NOMINALISM  253 

not  o-reat.  Indeed,  the  semi-realism  of  Duns  Scotus  re- 
sembles  the  doctrine  of  Roscellinus  more  closely  than  that 
of  Champeaux.  William  Duua^^d  of  Saint-Pourcain,i 
fii-st  a  disciple  of  St.  Thomas,  then  influenced  by  the  doc- 
trines of  'Scotus,  comes  still  nearer  to  nominalism  in 
formulating  the  following  thesis  :  To  exist  means  to  he  an 
individital.  Finally,  the  Franciscan  Willia.m  of  Occam,^ 
the  precursor  and  fellow-countryman  of  John  Locke,  openly 
antagonizes  realism  as  an  absurd  system.  According  to 
the  realists,  he  says,  the  universal  exists  in  several  things 
at  once ;  now  the  same  thing  cannot  exist  simultaneously 
in  several  different  things;  hence  the  universal  is  not  a 
thing,  a  reality  {res),  but  a  mere  sign  that  serves  to  desig- 
nate several  similar  tilings,  a  word  {mmeii) ;  and  there  is 
nothing  real  except  the  individual.-^ 

Scepticism  is  the  necessary  consequence  of  nominalism, 
which  has  already  been  outlined  in  §  33.  Science  has 
for  its  object  the  general,  the  universal,  the  necessary. 
The  science  of  man,  let  us  say  in  the  spirit  of  Plato,  does 
not  deal  with  Peter  for  the  sake  of  Peter,  or  with  Paul  for 
the  sake  of  Paul;  it  studies  Peter  and  Paul  in  order  to 
know  what  man  is.  It  is  the  universal  man,  the  species 
man,  wliom  it  seeks  in  the  individual.  The  same  is  true 
of  all  sciences.  Now,  if  the  universal  is  a  mere  word 
liaving  no  objective  reality,  and  if  the  individual  alone  is 
real,  then  there  can  be  no  anthropology,  nor  any  science. 

1  IJorn  in  Auvergne,  died  13-32,  Bishop  of  Meaux.  Comment,  in 
mag.  senlent.,  Paris,  1508;  Lyons,  1568. 

2  Died  1343.  Quodlibela  septem,  Strasburg,  11!)1  ;  Summa  toliu!! 
lugices,  Paris,  U88 ;  Oxford,  1G75;  Qiiccsliones  in  lihrnx  plu/sicoruin, 
Strasburg,  1491  ;  QucBstiones  et  decimmex  in  quatuor  lib.  sent.,  Lyons, 
1405;  Centilogium  iheoL,  Lyons,  14y(i ;  Ex/mxilio  aurea  super  totam 
artem  veterem,  Bologna,  1400.  [Cf.  W.  A.  Sclirr-ilior,  Die  pnHtischen  uud 
rdigiosen  Doclrinen  unter  Ludwig  drm  Bnier,  Laiidshut,  1858 ;  Pranll, 
Geschichte  der  Logik,  Vol.  III.,  pp.  327-120.  —  Tr.J 

3  decani,  fn  I.  I.  .tentenlinruin,  dist.  2,  qnfstion  8. 


254  PHILOSOPHY  01^  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

We  can  know  and  tell  what  both  Peter  and  Paul  are  ;  we  can 
study  each  particular  plant  and  animal  ;  but  the  universal 
man,  plant,  and  animal  can  never  become  objects  of  science, 
because  they  nowhere  exist.  Hence,  nominalism  is  scep- 
tical of  science ;  its  motto  agrees  with  that  of  Protagoras : 
IVie  individual  is  the  measure  of  all  things. 

The  liighest  science,  theology,  does  not  escape  William's 
sceptical  criticisms.  He  accepts  the  teacliing  of  his  master, 
and  declares  that  it  is  impossible  to  demonstrate  the  exist- 
ence and  unity  of  God.^  The  ontological  and  cosmologi- 
cal  arguments  are  equally  weak,  in  his  judgment,  and  the 
necessity  for  the  existence  of  a  first  cause  seems  to  him  to 
be  a  purely  hypothetical  necessity.  Indeed,  reason  may 
invariably  oppose  the  no  less  probable  theory  of  the  infinite 
causal  series.  Hence,  there  can  be  no  rational  or  scientific 
theology ;  and  if  the  science  pursued  by  such  thinkers  as 
Origen,  Augustine,  Anselmus,  and  Thomas  is  impossible, 
then  Scholasticism  itself  becomes  a  mere  heap  of  barren 
hypotheses.     Science  belongs  to  God,  faith  to  man. 

Let  the  doctors  of  the  Church  recognize  the  futility  of 
their  speculations,  and  become  interpreters  of  practical 
truth  and  propagators  of  the  faith !  Let  the  Church 
a})andon  this  empty,  terrestrial  science !  Let  her  cast  off 
all  the  worldly  elements  with  which  she  has  been  tainted 
by  her  contact  with  the  world  ;  let  her  reforin  and  return 
to  the  simplicity,  purity,  and  holiness  of  the  Apostolic 
times  !  Though  Occam  sided  with  the  King  in  the  quarrel 
between  Philip  the  Fair  and  the  Holy  See  ;  and  though 
he  fled  from  France  and  offered  his  services  to  Louis  of 
Bavaria,^  who  was  also  at  loggerheads  with  the  Vicar  of 
Christ,  he  was  neither  hostile  nor  indifferent  to  the  Church. 

1  Occam.  In  I.  I.  sentent.,  dist.  3,  quest.  4;  Centilnglum  theologicum 
f.  I. 

2  He  is  said  to  have  addressed  the  following  remark  to  Louis :  Tu 
me  defendas  gladio,  ego  le  defcndam  calamo. 


REAPPEARANCE   OF  NOMINALISM  255 

On  the  contraiy,  like  all  true  followers  of  St.  Francis,  he 
felt  a  deep  love  for  liis  spiritual  mother.  And  because  he 
loved  her,  he  desired  to  see  her  great  and  hoi}-  and  removed 
from  the  harmful  influences  of  the  world ;  he  could  not 
approve  of  the  Pope's  interference  with  the  temporal 
affairs  of  the  European  States.  It  was  his  devotion  to  the 
Church  that  forced  him  to  make  common  cause  with  the 
enemies  of  the  Hol}^  Father. 

Xominalism  not  only  weakens  the  alliance  between  faith 
and  science ;  it  also  attempts  to  sever  the  bond  which  had 
for  centuries  united  the  Church  with  the  world.  Its  reap- 
pearance not  only  marks  the  decline  of  Scholasticism ;  sim- 
ultaneously with  it,  we  notice  the  fii'st  symptoms  of  the 
decadence  of  the  Papal  power,  to  wliicli  the  European  mon- 
archs  henceforth  offer  a  successful  resistance.  The  nomin- 
alism of  Occam,  though  sincere  in  its  desire  to  promote  the 
welfare  of  the  Church,  nevertheless  resembles  all  philos- 
ophy ;  it  mirrors  the  ruling  purpose  of  the  age,  i.  e.,  the 
necessit}'  on  part  of  the  secular  powers,  the  states,  the 
nations,  the  languages,  intellectual  culture,  the  arts,  the 
sciences,  and  philosophy,  to  shake  off  the  yoke  of  Christian 
Rome.  From  the  reappearance  of  nominalism  we  date  the 
first  beginnings  of  national  life  and  modern  languages,  and 
tlie  opposition  to  the  political,  religious,  and  literary  cen- 
tralization, to  which  the  heir  of  Caesarean  traditions  had 
subjected  Europe.  Xominalisra  therefore  conceals  beneath 
its  seeming  devotion  to  the  Church  and  its  pious  contempt 
for  science,  a  mass  of  tendencies  hostile  to  Catliolicism. 
And  the  Church  gives  it  the  same  reception  wliich  she  had 
given  Aristotle  a  century  before :  she  condemns  it.  But 
the  heresy  had  taken  deep  root  this  time  ;  it  satisfied  the 
political,  intellectual,  and  religious  strivings  of  tlie  epoch 
tcjo  well  to  be  suppressed. 

The  doctrines  of  Duiand  and  Occam  gave  the  signal  for 
the  struggle  l)etween  the  i-ealists  and  nominalists.    Tlie  con- 


256  PHILOSOPHY   OF  THE   MIDDLE   AGES 

flict  raged  during  the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth  centuries ; 
it  transformed  the  universities  into  veritable  iiekis  of  battle 
—  the  expression  is  not  a  metaphor—  and  continued  down 
to  the  Renaissance  and  Reformation.  Realism  had  dis- 
tinguished followers  during  the  fourteenth  century,  e.  g., 
Walter  Burleigh,  who  defended  it  in  the  name  of  science 
and  philosophy  ;  Thomas  op  Bradwardine,^  Archbishop 
of  Canterbury,  who  upheld  it  in  the  name  of  the  faith,  and 
accused  Occam  of  Pelagianism ;  Thomas  of  Strasburg,^ 
and  Marsilius  of  Inghek,^  the  first  rector  of  the  Univer- 
sity of  Heidelberg,  who  tried  to  reconcile  the  opposing  doc- 
trines. But  even  in  its  conceptualistic  form,  it  attracted 
only  the  most  speculative  minds  ;  the  clear  and  well-defined 
conceptions  of  nominalism  appealed  more  and  more  to  what 
is  called  common-sense.  In  spite  of  the  obstinate  resistance 
of  the  realistic  party  and  of  the  government  which  this 
party  had  succeeded  in  interesting  in  its  behalf,  the  teach- 
ings of  Occam  eventually  made  their  wa}^  into  the  Sorbonne, 
where  they  were  ably  reproduced  by  John  Buridan,^  and 
more  or  less  modified  in  the  dogmatic  sense,  by  Pierre 
D'AiLLY,^  the  eagle  of  France. 

Nominalism  represented  the  reformatory  tendencies  of 
the  times,  and  could  not  but  triumph. 

§  42.  Downfall  of  Scholasticism.  Revival  of  the  Interest 
in  Nature  and  Experimental  Science.  Roger  Bacon. 
Mysticism 

In  vain  did  the  nominalist  Pierre  d'Ailly  struggle 
against  the  conclusions  of  Occam,  and  attempt  to  defend 

1  Died  1349.  2  Djed  1357.  s  Died  1396. 

*  Died  about  1360.  He  wi'ote  Summa  dialect ,  Paris,  1487;  Comp. 
log.,  Venice,  1480 ;  and  a  series  of  commentaries  on  Aristotle,  pub- 
lished in  Paris  and  Oxford. 

^  Died  1425.  Qucefttinnex  super  quatunr  I.  sent.,  Strasburg,  1490; 
Tractatus  et  sermones,  1490. 


DOWNFALL  OF   SCHOLASTICISM  257 

Scholasticism  against  the  claims  of  scepticism.  The  alliance 
between  the  essential  elements  of  Scholasticism  had  been 
seriously  weakened.  It  is  true,  Occam,  Durand,  Buiidan, 
and  Gabriel  Biel,^  are  sceptics  only  in  metaphysics;  still  by 
holding  that  we  can  know  nothing  of  God,  Providence,  the 
Fall,  Kedemption,  liesurrection,  and  Judgment,  and  that 
we  must  be  content  with  helieving  all  these  doctrines,  they 
make  them  uncertain  and  problematical,  and  involuntarily 
advance  the  cause  of  heterodoxy.  They  themselves  give 
up  science  for  faith ;  others,  who  are  less  devoted  to  the 
Church,  gradually  abandon  faith  and  become  freethinkers. 
Thus  in  1347,  Johx  of  Mercuria,  a  member  of  the  Cis- 
tercian order,  was  condemned  for  having  taught :  (1)  that 
everything  that  happens  in  the  world,  the  evil  as  well  as 
the  good,  is  eif  ected  by  the  divine  will ;  (2)  that  sin  is  a 
good  rather  than  an  evil ;  (3)  that  he  who  succumbs  to  an 
irresistible  temptation  does  not  sin.  Thus  also  in  IS-IS,  a 
bachelor  of  theology,  Nicolas  of  Autkicueia,  had  the 
boldness  to  present  the  following  theses  to  the  Sorbonne  : 
(1)  We  shall  easily  and  quickly  reach  certain  knowledge,  if 
we  abandon  Aristotle  and  his  commentaries,  and  devote 
ourselves  to  the  study  of  nature  itself.  (2)  It  is  true,  we 
conceive  God  as  the  most  real  being,  but  we  cannot  know 
whether  such  a  being  exists  or  not.  (3)  The  universe  is 
infinite  and  eternal ;  for  a  passage  from  non-being  to  being 
is  inconceivable.  —  Such  expressions  of  free  tliought  were 
as  yet  uncommon,  but  for  that  very  reason  all  the  more 
remarkable. 

Speculative  philoso})liy  and  its  anti-scholastic  strivings 
received  a  powerful  ally  in  tlie  experimental  sciences, 
whicli  were  revived  Ijy  the  study  of  Aristotle's  works  on 
physics  and  l)y  the  influence  of  the  Aral)ian  scliools  of 
Spain;  to  these  we  owe  our  S3st('iii  of  iiuincials,  tlie 
elementaiy  principh'S  of  algcl)ra  and   clicniistry,  an<l    our 

1  I'rofessor  at  'I'iiliiiigcii,  dii'd  lliJ.j. 
17 


258  PHILOSOPHY   OF  THE   MIDDLE   AGES 

knowledge  of  the  astronomical  traditions  of  tlie  Orient. 
The  instruction  offered  in  Christian  schools  was  purely 
dialectical  and  formal ;  it  trained  the  mind  for  discussion, 
but  left  it  an  utter  blank.  As  early  as  the  thirteenth 
century,  the  Franciscan  monk  Roger  Bacon,i  a  professor 
at  Oxford,  recognized  tlie  serious  imperfections  in  the 
system,  and  conceived  the  plan  of  reforming  it  by  the 
introduction  of  the  sciences.  His  three  works,  Oims 
majus,^  Opus  mimis,  and  Ojyus  tertiiwi,^  the  fruit  of  twenty 
years'  investigation,  to  which  he  devoted  his  entire  for- 
tune, constitute  the  most  remarkable  scientific  monument  of 
the  Middle  Ages.  Not  only  does  he  call  attention  to  the 
barrenness  of  the  scholastic  logomachies,  the  necessity  of 
observing  nature  and  of  studying  the  languages,  but  he 
recognizes,  even  more  clearly  than  his  namesake  of  the 
sixteenth  century,  the  capital  importance  of  mathematical 
deduction  as  an  auxiliary  to  the  experimental  method. 
Nay,  more  than  that ;  he  enriches  science,  and  especially 
optics,  with  new  and  fruitful  theories.  But  his  scientific 
reforms  were  premature  in  the  year  1267,  which  marks  the 
appearance  of  his  Ojpus  majns.  His  plan  was  submitted  to 
the  court  of  Rome,  but  owing  to  the  intrigues  of  the 
obscurantist  party,  it  fell  flat,  and  procured  for  Roger 
twelve  years  of  confinement.  The  seed  sown  by  this  most 
clear-sighted  thinker  of  the  Middle  Ages  upon  the  barren 
soil  of  Scholasticism  did  not  spring  up  until  three  cen- 
turies later. 

Albei't  the  Great  (§  38),  though  not  attaining  to  Bacon's 
eminence,   shows  a  marked   preference   for  the  study  of 

1  Doctor  mirabllis,  1214-1294. 

2  Ed.  Jebb,  London,  1773,  folio. 

'  In  Rogeri  Bacon  Opera  qucedam  hactenus  inedila,  ed.  J.  J.  Brewer, 
London,  1859 ;  Charles,  Roger  Bacon,  sa  vie,  ses  ouvrages,  ses  doctrines, 
d'apres  des  textes  inedits,  Bordeaux,  1861  ;  [K.  Werner,  Psychologic, 
Erkenntniss-  und  Wissenscha/lslehre  des  Roger  Baco,  Vienna,  1879.  — 
Tk.]. 


DOWNFALL  OF  SCHOLASTICISM  259 

nature,  which  he  himself,  like  his  age,  confused  with  magic. 
During  the  same  epoch,  Don  Raymoxd  Lin.LUS  ^  of  Palma, 
a  curious  mixture  of  theologian  and  naturalist,  missionary 
and  troubadour,  endeavored  to  popularize  the  science  of  the 
Arabians  by  means  of  a  universal  method,  which  he  called 
ars  magna.  His  teacliings,  which  were  recorded  in  numer- 
ous writings,  gained  for  him,  during  the  succeeding  cen- 
turies, enthusiastic  followers,  whose  chief  concern  was  to 
chscover  the  philosopher's  stone  and  to  make  gold.  As- 
sisted by  such  trifles,  the  human  mind  gradually  returned 
to  the  observation  of  reality,  and  came  to  regard  nature  as 
an  object  of  study  no  less  important  than  Aristotle.  About 
1400,  the  physician  Ray^iond  of  Sabltnde,^  a  professor 
at  Toulouse,  had  the  boldness  to  prefer  to  books  made  by 
human  hands  the  hook  of  nature,  ivkich  hchig  the  uvrk  of 
God  is  intelligible  to  all. 

The  official  philosophy,  with  its  barren  formalism,  its 
ignorance  of  reality,  and  its  hopeless  indolence,  had 
arrayed  against  it  thought  chafing  under  the  yoke  of  the 
ecclesiastical  Aristotle  and  yearning  for  progress  and  free- 
dom, and  natural  science,  which  foreshadowed  its  future 
grandeur  in  the  rudimentary  form  of  magic.  Finally,  it 
also  gave  offence  to  religious  feeling  and  mystical  piety 
because  of  its  inability  to  supply  the  soul  with  substan- 
tial nourishment  and  to  inspire  the  Christian  life  witli 
an  ardent  love  for  goodness.  Mysticism  bad  for  cen- 
turies been  the  ally  of  Scholastic  speculation  ;  in  Scotus 
Erigena,  the  sages  of  St.  Victor,  and  St.  Bonavcntura,  it 
tempered  the  cold  reasonings  of  tlic  School  with  its  glow- 
ing warmth,  aiid  (IcscciKlcd  upon  their  barren  logic  like 

^  1234-1315.  Raipmti>f/l  Lull!  Ojiera,^trnn]nirg,'ir)0H;  Opera  omnia, 
ed.  Sulzingcr,  Maycucc,  ]7"J1  It'. 

^  Died  1130.  Raunundi  lihcr  natnrd'  sire  crcalitrarum  Qhcohxjia  natu- 
ralls),  Strasbiirg,  1490;  Paris,  1509;  Siilzl):icli,  1852;  Kleiber,  De 
Raimundi  vita  el  srriptix,  Berlin,   1850. 


260  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

a  refreshing  dew.  It  widened  the  narrow  circle  of  an  in- 
tolerant orthodoxy  by  emphasizing  the  fides  qua  creditur 
instead  of  the  fides  quae  creditur,  by  laying  greater  stress 
upon  faith  itself  as  a  subjective  phenomenon  and  the  ani- 
mating principle  of  the  soul,  than  upon  the  object  of  faith. 
But  the  more  deeply  Scholasticism  became  absorbed  in 
formal  disputes  and  childish  discussions,  the  more  distaste- 
ful and  antagonistic  it  became  to  the  religious  spirit  which 
longed  for  a  life  in  God  and  was  stifled  by  the  categories 
of  Aristotle. 

Some  mystics,  like  St.  Bernard  ^  and  Walter  of  St. 
Victor,  inveigh  against  logic  because  they  consider  it 
dangerous  to  the  dogmas  of  the  Church.  Others,  who  are 
less  scrupulous  in  tliis  respect,  but  equally  anxious  to 
possess  God,  are  carried  away  by  the  ardor  of  their 
religious  sentiments  to  the  extreme  conclusions  of  pan- 
theistic speculation.  According  to  them,  dialectics  is  a 
lal)yrinth  in  which  the  soul,  instead  of  reaching  God,  is 
farther  and  farther  removed  from  him,  and  finally  loses  him 
altogether.  Feeling,  they  believe,  brings  us  directly  into 
communion  with  God ;  with  one  bound  we  overcome  the 
obstacles  of  discursive  thought  and  are  carried  to  the  centre 
of  things  and  the  source  of  being,  where  self-consciousness 
is  merged  in  the  consciousness  of  God.  According  to  some, 
feeling  alone  will  transport  the  soul  by  enchantment  to  the 
summit  of  existence  and  the  source  of  life.  So  Eckhart,^ 
the  Dominican  provincial  of  Cologne  and  a  t}^3ical  panthe- 
istic mystic.  Others,  though  seeking  to  be  united  with 
God,  do  not  expect  to  reach  their  goal  except  after  long  and 
wearisome  trials ;  hence,  to  the  love  of  God  they  add  the 
love  of  goodness  and  moral  struggle  as  indispensable  con- 

1  1091-1158. 

2  Died  about  1300.  [Bach,  Meister  Eckhart,  etc,  Vienna,  1864; 
Lasson,  Meister  Eckhart,  der  Mystiker,  Berlin,  1868]  ;  Ch.  Jundt,  Essai 
sur  le  mysdcisme  speculat'if  de  maltre  Eckhart,  Strasburg,  1871. 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LETTERS  261 

ditions  of  tlie  Christian  nirvana  to  which  they  aspire.  To 
tliis  chiss  belong  John  Taflep.,^  a  Dominican  preacher  of 
Cologne  and  Strasburg,  J0H2;  AVessel,"'^  and  Thomas  a 
Ke:mpis,2  the  supposed  author  of  the  Imitation  of  Christ  ; 
all  of  these  are  indebted  for  the  new  element  in  their 
teachings  to  the  wholly  Pelagian  influence  of  nominalism. 
Tills  influence  is  still  more  pronounced  in  the  Frenchman 
John  Gersox,*  the  chancellor,  and  Nicolas  of  Clemanges,^ 
the  rector,  of  the  University  of  Paris,  whose  mysticism  is 
nothing  but  moral  asceticism,  and  differs  essentially  from 
its  German  namesake.  But  beneath  these  different  forms 
lurks  one  and  the  same  anti-scholastic  tendency,  one  and 
the  same  spirit  of  reform. 

§  43.     The  Revival  of  Letters 

Corresponding  to  each  of  the  elements  of  progress  just 
mentioned,  we  notice  a  group  of  highly  important  historical 
facts,  which  give  a  decided  impetus  to  these  tendencies. 
Free  thought  eagerly  seizes  upon  the  literary  master- 
pieces of  antiquity,  wliich  are  made  known  by  Greek 
emigrants,  and  which  the  timely  invention  of  printing  helps 
to  render  accessible  to  all.  The  scientific  spirit  of  the  age 
and  its  naturalistic  bent,  admirably  assisted  by  the  inven- 
tion of  the  compass  and  the  telescope,  triumphs  in  the 
discovery  of  America  and  of  the  Solar  System.  The  con- 
templation of  these  new  and  infinite  worlds  arouses  feel- 
ings of  enthusiasm  and  confidence  which  become  more  and 
more    dangerous  to   Scholasticism    and    tlic    authoritative 

^  Died  LSOL  [Editions  of  Tauler's  sermons,  Leipsic,  1498 ;  Bile, 
1521  f. ;  Cologne,  1543.  Modern  edition,  Frankfurt  a.  M.,  1820  and 
18G4.  — Tr.] 

2  Died  1489.  8  Died  1 171. 

*  Died  1420.  [Opera,  Cologne,  1483  ff.]  See  C.  Scliniidt,  Essai  sw 
Jean  Gerson,  Strasburg,  1830. 

6  Died  1440. 


262  PHILOSOPHY   OF  THE   MIDDLE   AGES 

system  of  the  Church.  At  the  same  time,  the  religious 
spirit  receives  encouragement  from  the  great  reform  move- 
ment of  the  sixteenth  century,  inaugurated  by  the  literary 
awakening  in  the  fifteenth. 

Under  the  auspices  of  the  Byzantine  government,  which 
survived  the  ruin  of  the  ancient  world,  the  Hellenic  pen- 
insula preserved,  in  antiquated  and  pedantic  form,  the 
literary  and  philosophical  traditions  of  antiquity,  its  taste 
for  classical  learning,  and  its  love  for  the  great  philosophers, 
Plato  and  Aristotle.  Here  the  writings  of  these  thinkers 
were  studied  in  tlie  original  at  a  time  when  Greek  was  not 
only  a  dead  language  but  absolutely  unknown  in  the  Occi- 
dent. A  kind  of  worship  grew  up  around  them,  and  the 
more  impossible  it  seemed  to  surpass  them,  the  greater  admir- 
ation they  inspired.  As  long  as  such  stars  and  their 
satellites  shone  in  the  heavens  of  Byzantium  and  Athens, 
the  taste  for  learned  studies  and  free  speculation  could  not 
disappear  from  Grecian  soil,  and  even  the  theological 
pedantry  of  the  Emperors  could  not  destroy  it.  In  the 
main,  therefore,  the  Orient  exerted  a  wholesome  and  lib- 
eralizing influence  on  the  Occident. 

In  a  certain  sense,  this  influence  goes  back  to  the  period 
of  the  Crusades.  By  an  "  irony  of  fate,"  not  unfrequent 
in  history,  the  Catholic  Church  failed  to  reap  the  expected 
fruits  of  these  expeditions.  The  Orient  had  been  invaded 
in  the  name  of  the  Roman  faith,  and  the  Crusaders  brought 
back  nothing  but  heresies.  The  futile  efforts  made  by  the 
"Western  Church,  during  the  first  half  of  the  fifteenth 
century,  to  bring  about  a  reconciliation  with  the  Eastern 
Church  resulted  similarly.  The  influence  of  the  Greek 
Orient  was  beneficial  to  the  Occident,  but  injurious  to  the 
hierarchical  tendencies  of  Catholicism.  Some  centuries 
before,  the  Calabrians,  Barlaam  and  Leontius  Pilatus,  and, 
after  them,  Dante,  Petrarch,  and  Boccaccio  had  cultivated 
a  taste  for  Greek  literature  in  Italy ;  but  the  Orient  did 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LETTERS  263 

not  exercise  a  direct  and  lasting  influence  upon  Europe 
until  after  1438,  when  the  B3'zantine  Church  sent  her 
scholars  to  Florence.  The  object  of  their  mission  was  the 
reconciliation  of  the  two  churches ;  but  they  became  the 
missionaries  of  classical  ci^"ilizalion  from  the  Orient  to  the 
Empire  of  the  Popes. 

Greek  scholars  flocked  to  Italy  in  still  greater  numbers, 
causing  a  veritable  migration  from  the  Orient,  when 
Bj-zantium  and  the  last  remains  of  the  Eastern  Empire  fell 
into  the  hands  of  the  Turks  (1-153).  This  event  raised 
Italy  to  the  position  which  she  had  occupied  in  literature, 
art,  and  pliilosophy  two  thousand  years  before  ;  she  again 
became  Magna  Graccia.  In  the  year  1410,  the  Greek 
scholar,  Geoegius  Gej^hstus  Pletho,^  an  ambassador  to 
the  Council  of  Florence,  whom  the  munificence  of  Cosmo  dei 
MecUci  had  succeeded  in  detaining  in  Italy,  founded  a  Plu- 
tonic Academy  in  Florence.  His  fellow-countryman  Bes- 
SARION  2  succeeded  him  in  the  government  of  the  school 
and  in  the  work  of  propaganda.  He  defended  the  Acad 
emy  against  his  compatriots  Gennadius,  Theodorus  Gaza, 
and  Georgius  of  Trebizond,  followers  of  the  Lyceum,  and 
gained  a  large  number  of  Italian  adherents  for  Plato,  not- 
withstanding the  opposition  of  the  Peripatetics  and  their 
orthodox  supporters. 

The  fellow-countrymen  of  Dante  were  completely  fasci- 
nated with  the  Greek  language.  It  was  studied  with  the 
passionate  ardor  peculiar  to  the  Italian  people.  Philosophy 
became  the  all-important  science.  The  Venetian  Hiiioro- 
LAUS  BARBAiti's,  I^AUMEXTILTS  Valla  of  Rome,  and  Ax- 

^  Ilfpi  ojf  ^ \pi(TT0Ti\r)<;  TTpns  nXdrcowi  ^ui(\)(p(T<n,  Paris,  1540  ;  Nd/xcoi' 
(Tvyytmrprf  (frafj;iiients  collccttMl  l)y  C  Alcxaiidri'  and  translated  into 
Frencli  l>y  A.  PcUissitT,  I'aris,  1858).  [See  F.  Sc-liultze,  Gcschichte  iler 
Philosophie  der  Renaissance,  vol.  I.,  Geo.  Gem.  Pkthon,  -Fma,  1871.  — 
Tk.] 

2  Adversus  calumniatures  Platonis,  Rome,  IKiO;  [Opera  onniia,  cd. 
MigiK",  I'aris,  18fK5\ 


264  PHILOSOPHY   OF  THE   MIDDLE   AGES 

GELIJS  PoLiTiANUS  were  zealous  disciples  of  the  exiles  of 
Byzantium.  The  love  of  ancient  literature  and  the  dislike 
for  the  language  of  the  School  extended  even  to  the  leaders 
of  the  Church.  The  Cardinal  Nicolas  of  Cusa  (Kuss  i), 
who  possessed  the  qualities  of  a  Bruno  and  a  Descartes,  had 
the  courage  openly  to  criticise  the  errors  of  Scholasticism, 
and  recommended  the  philosophy  of  Plato,  which  he  iden- 
tified with  the  Pythagorean  theory  of  numbers,  as  in  every 
way  preferable  to  the  reigning  system.  The  wave  of  classi- 
cism even  reached  the  throne  of  St.  Peter;  and  it  is  a 
Avell-known  fact  that  Leo  X.  and  liis  secretary  Bembo 
greatly  preferred  Cicero  to  the  Vulgate.  The  religion  of 
Virgil  and  Homer  superseded  the  religion  of  Christ  in  the 
hearts  of  the  high  dignitaries  of  the  Church  and  the  secu- 
lar scholars,  poets,  and  artists;  the  joyful  Olympus  was 
exchanged  for  the  severe  Golgotha ;  Jehovah,  Jesus,  and 
Mary  became  Jupiter,  Apollo,  and  Venus ;  the  saints  of 
the  Church  were  identified  with  the  gods  of  Greece  and 
Rome,  —  in  a  word,  the  times  returned  to  paganism. 

Marsilius  Ficinus,2  a  pupil  of  the  Florentine  Acad- 
emy, continues  the  struggle  begun  by  Bessarion  in  behalf  of 

1  Diocese  of  Treves. "  Cusanus,  whose  real  name  was  Ivi-ebs,  died 
in  146i.  His  Works  appeared  in  three  folio  volumes,  Paris,  1514 
[German  transl.  of  his  most  important  writings,  by  F.  A.  Scharpff, 
Freiburg,  1862].  The  best  known  of  his  treatises,  De  docta  ignorantia, 
is  foimd  in  the  first  volume.  The  second,  which  contains  his  treatises 
on  astronomy  and  mathematics,  makes  him  the  forerunner  of  Coper- 
nicus and  of  the  reform  of  the  calendar.  He  anticipates  Bruno  by 
his  do"ctrine  of  the  absolute  unity-God,  and  Schelling  and  Hegel  by  his 
conception  of  the  coincidence  of  contradictories.  See  Richard  Falcken- 
berg,  Grundzlige  der  PJiilosophie  des  Nicolas  von  Cusanus,  Breslau,  1880. 

2'  A  Florentine,  1433-lt99.  Florence  and  the  century  of  the  liter- 
ary renaissance  also  produced  the  great  politician  and  Italian  patriot, 
Nicolo  Maoehiavelli  (1469-1527),  the  author  of  11  imncipe,  etc.  [works 
translated  by  C.  E.  Detmold,  Boston,  1883],  whose  system  is  based  on 
the  principle  that  the  end  justifies  the  means  (separation  of  politics  from 
morals). 


NEO-PLATONISM  265 

Plato.  For  him,  Platonism  is  the  quintessence  of  human 
wisdom,  the  key  to  Christianity,  and  the  only  efficient 
means  of  rejuvenating  and  spiritualizing  the  Catholic  doc- 
trine. As  the  editor,  translator,  and  commentator  of  Plato 
and  the  Alexandrians,  Marsilius  Ficinus  is  one  of  the 
fathers  of  modern  classical  philology  as  well  as  of  the  phil- 
osophical Renaissance.  An  equally  distinguished  person  is 
the  Count  Jolui  Pico  of  Mirandola  (1463-1494).  Pico 
recommends  Hebrew  in  addition  to  the  study  of  the  Greek 
language  and  literature ;  believing,  as  he  does,  that  the  Jew- 
ish Cabala  ^  is  as  important  a  som-ce  of  wisdom  as  Plato 
and  the  New  Testament.  He  bequeaths  his  love  of  phi- 
lology and  his  Cabalistic  prejudices  to  his  nephew,  John 
Francis  Pico  of  Mirandola,  a  less  talented  but  more  pious 
man  than  his  uncle,  and  to  the  German  Reuchlin,  who, 
upon  returning  to  the  Empire,  becomes  the  founder  of 
classical  and  Hebrew  philology  in  his  countr}^  and  by  com- 
bating Hochstraten  and  the  obscurantists  paves  the  way 
for  the  spiritual  deliverance  of  his  native  land. 

§  44.     Neo-Platonism.       Theosophy.       Magic 

The  mixture  of  new  ideas  and  old  superstitions  gives 
rise  to  a  number  of  curious  theories,  partially  modelled 
after  Neo-Platonic  doctrines,  which  represent  the  stages, 
as  it  were,  by  which  the  philosophical  and  scientific  mind 
gains  its  independence.  Tliey  may  be  classed  under  the 
title  theoso'phy.  Tlieosophy  sliares  theology's  belief  in  the 
supernatural  and  philosophy's  faitli  in  nature.  It  forms  an 
intermediate  stage,  a  kind  of  transition,  between  theology 
and  ])ure  philosophy.  It  does  not  attain  to  tlie  dignity  of 
modern  experimental  science;  for  it  rests  upon  an  inner 
revelation,  which  is  superior  to  sensible   experience  and 

1  Coiiceniiii^  IIk'  Cabala, see  Munck,  %.s7me  de  la  Kabbalc,  Viiv\s, 
1812;  M(!lan<jcx  de  philosophle  jnive  ct  arahe,  Paris,  1859. 


266  riiiLOSOPHY  of  the  middle  ages 

reasoning.  It  does  not  study  nature  for  nature's  sake,  but 
in  order  to  discover  the  traces  of  the  mysterious  Being 
which  nature  hides  as  well  as  reveals.  Now,  in  order  to 
discover  it,  theosophy  needs  a  key  of  Sesame,  a  no  less 
mysterious  instrument  than  the  object  of  its  studies.  It 
therefore  enters  upon  a  search  for  secret  doctrines,  and 
greedily  seizes  and  utilizes  whatever  is  offered  in  this  line. 
Hence  the  enthusiasm  M^hich  the  teachings  of  the  Jewish 
Cabala  and  of  Neo-Platonism  arouse  in  Pico  of  Mirandola, 
who  compares  them  with  those  of  the  Bible,  and  in  Reuch- 
lin,  who  exalts  them  in  liis  Dc  vcrho  mirifico  ^  and  his  Be 
arte  cahalistica? 

Theosophy  is  not  content  with  fathoming  the  great  mys- 
tery ;  it  does  not  regard  it  as  enough  to  know  nature ;  it 
desires  what  Francis  Bacon  afterwards  desired:  to  rule 
over  it,  to  master  it,  to  control  it.  And  just  as  it  claims  to 
reach  a  knowledge  of  things  by  means  of  secret  doctrines, 
it  boasts  of  being  able  to  control  them  by  secret  arts,  by 
formulas  and  mysterious  practices.  That  is  to  say,  it  neces- 
sarily becomes  magic  or  theurgy.-^  Magic  is  based  upon 
the  Neo-Platonic  principle  that  the  world  is  a  hierarchy  of 
divine  forces,  a  system  of  agencies  forming  an  ascending 
and  descending  scale,  in  which  the  higher  agencies  com- 
mand and  the  lower  ones  obey.  Hence,  in  order  to  govern 
nature  and  to  change  it  according  to  his  wishes,  the  theos- 
ophist  must  be  united  with  the  higher  forces  on  which  the 
sublunary  sphere  depends;  and  since,  according  to  Aris- 
totle and  Ptolemy,  the  heavenly  powers  or  the  sidereal 
agencies  are  uch  higher  forces,  astrology  plays  an  impor- 
tant part  in  the  lucubrations  of  the  theosophist. 

This  union  of  Platonism,  or  rather  Pythagoreanism, 
with  theurgy  and  magic  is  best  exemplified  in  Reuchlin's 
disciple,  Agrippa  of  Nettesheim,^  the  author  of  a  treatise, 

1  Bale,  1494.  2  Hagenau,  1517.  3  Cf.  §§  25  and  26. 

*  Born  at  Cologne,  1487 ;  died  at  Grenoble,  1535. 


ARISTOTLE  VERSUS  ARISTOTLE         267 

J)c  vanitate  scientiarum,  directed  against  scholastic  dogma- 
tism ;  in  Jerome  Cardaxits,^  a  noted  physician  and  mathe- 
matician, whose  teachings,  a  singular  mixture  of  astro- 
logical superstitions  and  liberal  ideas,  are  stamped  as 
anti-Christian  by  the  orthodoxy  of  the  period;  in  the 
learned  Swiss  physician  Theophrastus  of  Hohenheim,  called 
Paracelsus,^  who  shares  the  belief  of  Pico,  Reuchlin, 
and  Agrippa  in  the  inner  light  "  that  is  much  superior  to 
bestial  reason,"  and  their  love  for  the  Cabala,  whose  doc- 
trines his  system  identifies  with  those  of  Christianity. 
From  the  Adam  cadmon,  who  is  none  other  tlian  Christ, 
spring,  according  to  Paracelsus,  the  soul  of  the  world  and 
the  many  spirits  governed  by  it,  the  Sylvans,  Undines, 
Gnomes,  and  Salamanders  ,  and  whoever,  through  absolute 
obedience  to  the  divine  will,  is  united  with  the  Adam 
cadmon  and  with  the  heavenly  intelligences,  is  the  best 
physician,  and  possesses  the  universal  panacea,  —  the  phi- 
losopher's stone.  With  a  great  deal  of  superstition  and  a 
little  charlatanism,  the  precursors  of  the  scientific  reforma- 
tion combine  a  keen  love  of  nature  and  a  profound  aversion 
to  Scholasticism,  which  their  opposition  largely  assists  in 
overthrowing. 

§  45.    Aristotle  versus  Aristotle,  or  the  Liberal  Peripatetics. 
Stoics.       Epicureans.       Sceptics 

While  Pletho  and  Bessarion  were  preaching  Plato,  Gen- 
nadius,  Georgiusof  Trebizond,  ainrrheodorus  Ciaza,  ardent 

1  Of  ravia,  1 501-1  .IT'i.  Oppra  omnia.  Lyons,  IfiO:].  Cardaiius  is 
reTnemberocI  in  the  history  of  inathi'iiiaties  by  liis  rule  for  the  sohiliou 
of  equations  of  the  tliird  degree  (Ars  magna  sive  de  regulis  nlgehraicix, 
published  1543,  tlie  date  of  the  appearance  of  Copernicus's  Celestial 
Revoluliom).  [Cf.  Rixner  and  Sil)f'r,  Beilriifje  zur  Geschichte  der  Phys- 
iologie,  7  i.ts.,  Sulzbadi,  1819-20;  2d  cd.  1829  ] 

2  119:5-1511.  (9/>em,  IJuIe,  L-,8!» ;  Strasburj^,  lOKI  ff.  [Cf.  Sijrwart, 
Kieine  Schriftcn,  I.,  pp.  25  ff.  ;  Eiicken,  Beilriige,  etc.,  pj).  32  if.] 


268  PHILOSOPHY  OF   THE   MIDDLE   AGES 

Peripatetics  and  adversaries  of  the  Academy  of  Florence, 
introduced  the  learned  Italian  public  to  the  study  of  the 
texts  of  Aristotle.  The  better  they  became  acquainted 
with  the  words  of  the  great  philosopher,  the  more  they 
recognized  the  notable  differences  between  the  real  Aris- 
totle and  the  Aristotle  of  Scholasticism ;  and  while  Plato, 
Plotinus,  and  Proclus  attracted  the  more  imaginative 
minds,  the  positive  thinkers,  who  were  no  less  hostile  to 
traditional  philosophy  than  the  Academicians  of  Florence, 
appealed  from  Aristotle  misinterpreted  to  the  authentic 
Aristotle  of  the  Greek  texts.  As  a  result,  the  Stagirite 
met  with  a  fate  similar  to  that  experienced  by  Hegel 
about  1835.  The  system  which  had  been  regarded  as  the 
strongest  support  of  the  Church  was  found  to  cUsagree 
with  her  on  several  essential  points.  A  liberal  Peripatetic 
school,  chiefly  composed  of  laymen,  was  formed  in  oj^posi- 
tion  to  official  Peripateticism.  Although  maintaining  a 
prudent  reserve  towards  the  Church,  these  liberal  Peripa- 
tetics assisted  in  undermining  her  authoritative  system 
by  laying  bare,  one  after  another,  the  heresies  of  the  philo- 
sopher whom  she  shielded  with  blind  tenderness.  To  con- 
vict an  author  of  heresy  whom  the  Church  had  declared 
infallible,  was  to  make  the  Church  fallible ;  was  to  attack 
her  supreme  authority  in  the  field  of  thought ;  was  to 
respond  to  the  emancipation  of  conscience,  taking  place 
beyond  the  mountains,  with  the  emancipation  of  the 
intellect. 

In  his  treatise  On  the  ImmortaUtij  of  the  Soul,^  the 
leader  of  the  new  school,^  Petrus  Pompoxatius  (Pom- 
ponazzi^),  boldly  raises  the  question  whether  immortality 

^   Tractatus  ile  immortalitate  animae,  1516;  numerous  editions. 

2  Called  the  school  of  Padaa,  in  honor  of  the  city  in  which  Pom- 
ponatius  taught. 

3  Born  at  Mantua,  1462;  died,  1525;  professor  at  Padua.  See  on 
Pomponatius :    [F.  Fiorentino,  Pietro  Pomponazzi,   Florence,  1868] ; 


ARISTOTLE  VERSUS  ARISTOTLE  269 

is  a  corollary  of  Aristotle's  principles,  and,  with  Alexander 
of  Aphrodisias,^  answers  it  in  the  negative.  He  thereby, 
on  the  one  hand,  ignores  the  authority  of  St.  Thomas, 
who  had  declared  that  the  philosophy  of  the  Stagirite  was 
favorable  to  this  fundamental  dogma  of  religion ;  and,  on 
the  other,  denies  the  doctrine  itself;  for  both  Pomponatius 
as  well  as  the  Church  regarded  the  philosophy  of  Aristotle, 
not  as  a  system  among  other  systems,  but  as  the  true  phi- 
losophy. Pomponatius,  who  had  to  make  his  peace  with 
Leo  X.  in  order  to  escape  the  anathemas  of  the  Church, 
declares  that  he  personall}'  believes  in  immortality,  because 
he  accepts  the  authority  of  the  Church  in  matters  of 
religion ;  but  it  is  evident  from  the  manner  in  which  he 
refutes  the  objections  raised  against  the  opposite  view  that 
he  does  not  believe  in  it. 

Say  what  you  will,  he  writes,  it  cannot  be  held  that  all 
men  achieve  intellectual  perfection ;  while  moral  perfec- 
tion does  not  consist  in  an  ideal  that  cannot  be  realized 
on  earth,  but  in  the  conscientious  performance  of  the 
duties  imposed  upon  each  individual  by  his  special  task. 
The  conscientious  and  upright  magistrate  attains  the  per- 
fection in  his  sphere  of  which  he  is  capable  and  for  which 
he  is  destined;  the  industrious  farmer,  the  merchant,  the 
honest  and  active  artisan,  realize,  each  according  to  his 
means,  the  relative  perfection  of  which  nature  has  fur- 
nislied  them  the  elements.  Absolute  perfection  belongs  to 
the  absolute  Being  alone. 

The  argument  which  infers  tlie  immortality  of  the  soul 

Ad.  Franck,  Mnralistes  et  pMlosophes,  2tl  ed.,  Paris,  1874  ;  [L.  Ferri, 
La  psicologia  di  P.  Pomponazze,  Rome,  1877]. 

^  See  on  the  Alexaiidrists  and  the  Averroists,  Marsilius  Ficinus, 
Preface  to  the  Translation  of  Plolhius,  Some  interjirctcil  Aristotle,  as 
did  Averrocs,  in  the  pantheistic  sense;  others  as;re('d  with  Alexander 
of  Aphroilisias,  and  interiirctcd  him  in  the  deistic  sense.  All  rejected 
individual  immortality  and  miracles. 


270  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

from  the  necessity  of  an  eternal  reward  of  virtue,  and  an 
eternal  punisliment  of  crime,  is  based  upon  a  false,  or  at 
least  inij^erfect  and  vulgar,  conception  of  virtue  and  vice, 
reward  and  punishment.  Virtue  which  is  exercised  merely 
for  the  sake  of  a  reward  other  than  itself,  is  not  virtue. 
This  is  proved  by  the  fact  that  everybody  regards  an  act 
performed  in  a  wholly  disinterested  manner,  and  without 
the  hope  of  some  material  advantage,  as  more  meritorious 
than  an  act  performed  for  an  advantage  or  to  satisfy  an 
interest.  We  must  distinguish  between  the  essential  re- 
ward and  the  accidental  remuneration  of  virtue.  The 
essential  recompense,  which  is  inherent  in  virtue  and 
consequently  never  lacking,  is  virtue  itself  and  the  insep- 
arable joy  connected  with  it;  and  the  same  may  be  said 
of  vice,  which  carries  its  own  punishment  with  it,  even 
though  it  is  not  followed  l)y  external  and  accidental  pains. 
It  is  an  incontrovertible  fact  that  men  practise  righteous- 
ness for  the  sake  of  the  reward  be3'ond  the  grave,  and  that 
they  abstain  from  crime  on  account  of  their  fear  of  hell ; 
but  this  23roves  that  their  moral  ideas  are  still  rudimentary, 
and  that  they  have  need  of  rattles  and  bugbears  where  the 
philosopher  acts  solely  from  principle. 

But  if  the  soul  is  not  immortal,  all  religions  are  in  error, 
and  the  whole  world  is  deceived !  Well,  does  not  Plato 
say  that  all  men  are  in  many  respects  deluded  by  the  same 
prejudice  ?  And  does  he  not  therefore  hold  of  little  worth 
arguments  based  on  the  conse^isus  gentium  ?  Finally,  as 
regards  apparitions  of  the  dead,  resurrections,  and  ghosts : 
such  proofs  in  favor  of  a  hereafter  do  not  prove  anything 
but  the  marvellous  power  of  the  imagination  influenced  by 
faith.  If,  as  Aristotle  explicitly  teaches,  the  soul  is  the 
function  of  the  body,  it  is  evident  that  there  can  be  no 
soul  without  a  body.  And  what,  then,  becomes  of  sorcery 
and  the  exorcism  of  s^jirits  ?  What  becomes  of  the  super- 
natural ? 


ARISTOTLE   VERSUS  ARISTOTLE  271 

In  his  treatise  On  Magic,^  Pomponatius  openly  avows 
his  disbelief  in  miracles  as  the  suspension  of  the  natural 
order  of  things ;  and  thoug-h  lie  admits  the  miracles  of 
Jesus  and  Moses  in  order  to  mislead  the  Inquisition,  lie 
explains  them  naturall}-,  that  is,  he  denies  them  indirectly. 
And  he  rejects  them,  on  the  authority  of  the  man  whom 
the  Church  considered  as  the  staunchest  supporter  of  the 
supernaturalistic  Christian,  —  on  the  authority  of  Aristotle. 

Finally,  in  his  treatise  On  Fate?  he  dwells,  with  apj^arent 
satisfaction,  on  the  contradictions  involved  in  the  doctrines 
of  divine  prescience  and  providence,  predestination  and 
moral  freedom.  If  God  ordains  everything  in  advance, 
and  foresees  everything,  then  we  are  not  free ;  if  man  is 
free,  then  God  does  not  foresee  his  acts,  and  his  knowledge 
is  dependent  on  his  creatures.  Aristotle  himself,  —  Pom- 
ponatius does  not  dare  to  say  so  openly,  so  great  is  the 
authority  of  the  pliilosopher  of  the  Church,  —  Aristotle 
contradicts  himself  on  this  important  question,  the  solution 
of  which  seems  to  transcend  the  ca[)acity  of  human  reason. 
However  that  may  be,  determinism  has  all  the  logic  on  its 
side,  and  Pomponatius  is  in  sympathy  with  it.  In  that  case 
God  is  the  source  of  evil !  Scholastic  nominalism  interposes. 
Our  philosopher  is  forced  to  admit  this;  but  he  consoles 
himself  with  the  thought  that  if  there  were  not  so  much  evil 
in  the  world,  there  ivouhl  not  he  so  much  good  in  it. 

PoRTA,^  ScALiGER,*  Cremonini,^  Zabarella,^  Continue 
the  liberal  Peripateticism  of  Pomponatius  during  the  six- 
teenth centuiy,  and  advocate  his  theory  of  the  soul.    They 

^  De  naturalium  effecluum  adinirandorum  causis  sire  dr.  incanlalioni- 
bus  liber,  Bale,  1550. 

2  De  fato,  lihero  arhilrio,  prcedeslinnlione,  proridnilia  Dei,  Uhri  K., 
Bolof^na,  1520;  Ralo,  1525  11". 

8  J  )!(•(],  1555.     De  rerum  nalurnlihux  prinripiis,  FJoiviice,  1551. 

*  11>>1-155S.     Exerc.  adv.  C<trdaiiu»i. 

»  1552-lG:n.     Pr(.f('s.s<ir  .it  Frirara  and  Pailua. 

•  15:}:5-15S9.     Professor  at   I'a.liia.      O/// m,  Lry.lni.  15.S7. 


272  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

also  practise  his  prudent  reserve,  as  the  following  motto 
recomniended  by  Crenionini  shows  :  Intus  ut  lihet,  forts  ut 
moris  est.  The  Church,  however,  kept  a  close  watch  upon 
them,  and  suspected  them  of  atlieism.  A  product  of  this 
school,  LuciLio  Vanini,^  a  restless  and  extremely  vain  soul, 
was  burnt  by  the  Inquisition,  in  spite,  or  perhaps  because 
of,  his  declaration  "  that  he  would  state  his  opinions  con- 
cerning the  immortality  of  the  soul  only  in  case  he  were 
old,  rich,  and  a  German."  These  Peripatetics  of  the  left  no 
longer  swear  by  the  words  of  the  master  like  the  orthodox 
Peripatetics.  They  venerate  Aristotle  as  the  highest  type 
of  the  philosophical  mind;  but  their  Peripateticism  does 
not  consist  in  a  servile  obedience  to  the  letter  of  his 
writings,  from  which  they  frequently  deviate. 

Some,  impressed  by  the  similarity  between  the  real 
teachings  of  Aristotle  and  the  Platonic  and  Alexandrine 
doctrines,  approximate  the  Florentine  Academy,  though 
still  following  the  standard  of  the  Lyceum ;  while  the  Pla- 
tonists,  on  the  other  hand,  whom  a  careful  study  of 
Aristotle  had  initiated  into  the  secrets  of  his  metaphysics, 
consent  to  a  compromise  between  Platonism  and  Peripa- 
teticism. On  the  Platonic  side  we  have  John  Pico  of 
Mirandola,  whose  work  on  the  agreement  between  Plato 
and  Aristotle  remained  unfinished ;  on  the  Neo-Peripatetic 
side,  we  have  Andreas  CyESALPiNUS,^  a  learned  naturalist, 
who  anticipated  Harvey's  discovery,  and  created  an  artificial 

^  His  real  name  was  Pompeio  Lucilio  Vanini.  In  his  works  he 
calls  himself  Julius  Caesar  Vaninus.  He  was  born  at  Tauresano,  near 
Naples,  in  1584,  and  burnt  alive  at  Toulouse  on  the  9th  of  February, 
1619,  after  having  had  his  tongue  cut  off.  He  left  two  works  :  Amphi- 
theatrum  ceternce  providenikc,  Lyons,  1615,  and  De  cDlmlrandis  naturce 
arcanis,  Paris,  1616  (best  known  by  the  title  Dialogues  on  Nature, 
transl.  into  French  by  Cousin). 

2  1519-1603.  Physician  of  Clement  VIII.  Qucestiones  peripaletl- 
cce,  Venice,  1571;  Dasmonum  investigaiio  perip.,  Venice,  1593;  compare 
p.  284. 


ARISTOTLE  VERSUS  ARISTOTLE  273 

system  of  botany.  The  universe,  according  to  Gsesalpinus, 
is  a  living-  unity,  a  perfect  organism.  The  "  first  mover  " 
is  the  innermost  substance  of  the  world,  —  the  substance  of 
which  the  particular  tilings  are  the  modes  or  determina- 
tions. He  is  both  absolute  thought  and  absolute  being. 
Thouo'h  a  mode  of  the  divine  substance,  the  human  soul  is 
none  the  less  immortal,  since  its  essence,  thought,  is  inde- 
pendent of  the  bod}-. 

Still  others,  like  Bernardino  Telesto^  of  Cosenza 
(1508-1588),  the  founder  of  the  Academia  Telesiana  or 
Cosentina  of  Naples,  and  Francesco  Patrizzi^  (1527- 
1597),  who  were  trained  in  the  humanities  as  well  as  in  the 
secret  science  of  Paracelsus  and  Cardanus,  approximate  the 
naturalistic  systems  of  the  Ionian  school  in  their  cosmologi- 
cal  conceptions.  In  connection  with  Telesio,  we  must 
mention  the  illustrious  names  of  Giordano  Bruno  (§  49) 
and  Francis  Bacon  (§  51),  both  of  whom  knew  his  writings 
and  were  influenced  b}^  them. 

While  the  speculative  genius  of  Southern  Italy  was 
revealing  to  the  world  the  real  Aristotle,  Plato,  Parmeni- 
des,  and  Empeclocles,  the  French  and  Flemish  thinkers  on 
the  other  side  of  the  mountains,  took  a  deeper  interest  in 
moral  philosophy  and  positive  science  than  in  metaphysical 
speculation.  Pyrrhonism  was  revived  in  the  Essays^  of 
Michel  de  Montaigne  (1533-1592)  and  in  the  writings 

1  De  rerum  nalurn  juxtn  propria  principia,  lihri  IX.,  Naples,  158G  ; 
[F.  Fiorentino,  Bernardino  Telesio,  2  vols.,  Florence,  1872-74;  L. 
Ferri,  La  flosofia  della  not.  e  dottrlne  di  B.  Telesio,  Turin,  1873;  cf. 
also  Rixner  and  Siher,  mentioned  p.  267.  —  Tr.]. 

2  Discussiones  peripateticce,  Venice,  1571  ff. ;  Bale,  1581;  Nova  de 
unirersis  philosophia,  Ferrara,  1491. 

>  First  edition,  Bordeaux,  1580;  nioderji  edition,  with  notes  of  all 
the  commentators,  by  IM.  J.  V.  Leclerc,  and  a  new  study  of  Montaigne 
by  rr<?vo.st-Paradol,  Paris,  1805;  [Engl,  transl.  by  .Tolin  Florio,  with 
introduction  by  George  Saintsbury,  London,  1892;  l»y  C.  Cotton,  with 
life  and  notes  by  W.  C.  Ilazlitt,  3  vols.,  2d  cd.,  Louden,  1892.  —  Tu.] 

18 


274  PHiLOSoriiY  of  the  middle  ages 

of  Pierre  CharronI  (1541-1603),  Sanchez  2  (died  at 
Toulouse,  1632),  Lamothe-Levayeu  3  (1586-1672);  Sto- 
icism, by  Justus  Lipsius*  (1547-1606);  Epicureanism, 
by  the  learned  physicist  Gassendi,°  the  opponent  of  Car- 
tesian intellectualism,  (1596-1655).  Although  these  free- 
thinkers, with  the  exception  of  Gassendi,  whose  teachings 
were  again  taken  up  by  the  eighteenth  century,  do  not 
contribute  directly  to  the  reform  of  philosophy,  they  at 
least  exert  an  indirect  influence  by  discrediting  the  still 
powerful  metaphysics  of  the  School,  by  exposing  the  use- 
lessness  of  its  formuhe  and  the  barrenness  of  its  disputes. 
Humanists  and  naturalists,  dogmatists  and  sceptics,  Ital- 
ians and  Frenchmen,  are  united  in  the  common  desire 
for  emancipation,  reform,  and  progress.  Nature  is  their 
watchword ;  here,  as  in  Greece,  the  theological  age  is 
followed  by  the  era  of  the  physicists. 

§  46.     The  Religious  Reform  ^ 

Ideas  enlighten  humanity  on  its  onward  march,  but  the 
will  or  the  instinctive  passions  impel   it  onward.^     The 

^  De  la  sar/esse,  Bordeaux,  1601. 

2  Tractatus  de  multum  nobili  et  prima  universali  scientia,  quod  nihil 
scitur,  Lyons,  1581 ;  Tractatus  philosophici,  Rotterdam,  164S* ;  [cf.  L. 
Gerkrath,  Francois  Sanchez,  Vienna,  I860]. 

3  Cinq  dialogues  fails  a  limitation  des  anciens,  Mons,  1673  ;  Works, 
Paris,  1653. 

*  Manuductio  ad  stoicam  philosophiam,  etc.,  Antwerp,  1604. 

^  De  vita,  moribus  et  doctrina  Epicuri,  Leyden,  1647;  Animadversio- 
nes  in  Diog.  L.  de  vita  et  phil.  Epic,  ibid.,  1649;  Syntagma  phil.  Epic, 
The  Hague,  1655;  Opera,  Leyden,  1658;  Florence,  1727;  [cf.  Lange, 
History  of  Materialism,  I.,  3,  chap.  3.] 

^  [K.  Ilagen,  Deutschlands  Utterarische  und  religiose  Verhliltnisse  im 
Reformationszeiialter,  3  vols.,  Frankfurt,  1868;  M.  Carriere,  Die  Welt- 
anschauung der  Reformationszeit ;  W.  Dilthey,  Auffassting  und  Analyse 
des  Menschen  im  15.  u.  16.  Jahrhundert,  Archiv  f  Geschichte  der  Philos., 
IV.  and  v.;  same  author,  Das  naturliche  System  der  Geisteswissen- 
schaften  im  17.  Jahrhundert,  ibid.,  IV.  —  Tr.] 

'  §4. 


THE  RELIGIOUS  REFORM  275 

Humanists  demolished,  piece  by  piece,  the  system  which 
had  been  so  carefully  constructed  by  the  doctors  of  the 
Church ;  but  their  excessive  prudence  or  their  indifference 
hindered  them  from  attacking  the  Church  herself,  towards 
whom  they  affected  an  attitude  of  respectful  submission. 
Pomponatius,  Sealiger,  Erasmus,  and  ^Montaigne  were  more 
liberal  than  the  leaders  of  the  Reformation ;  but  their  lib- 
eralism is  exactly  what  rendered  them  indifferent  to  religion 
and  unfitted  them  for  the  grand  work  of  the  emancipation 
of  conscience.  The  Church  was  so  tolerant  of  pagan  an- 
tiquity, so  fond  of  classical  studies  I  The  Popes  them- 
selves were  so  cultured,  so  liberal,  and  so  worldly!  Yet, 
the  spiritual  onuiipotence  of  Rome  formed  one  of  the  chief 
obstacles  in  the  way  of  philosophical  reform,  and  it  took  a 
more  powerfid  force  to  shake  the  colossus  than  the  love  of 
lettei"s  or  the  taste  for  free  thought.  Such  a  force  was 
the  religious  conscience  of  Luther  and  the  Reformers.  In 
the  name  of  the  inner  power  tliat  controlled  them  and  im- 
pelled them  onward,  they  attacked,  not  the  philosophical 
system  patronized  by  the  Cluirch,  but  the  Church  herself 
and  the  principle  of  her  supreme  authorit}-. 

As  we  have  seen,  the  media3val  Church  is  both  church 
and  school,  the  depositary  of  the  means  of  salvation  and 
the  dispenser  of  profane  instruction.  As  long  as  the 
people  continued  in  a  state  of  barbarism,  the  power  which 
she  exercised  in  this  double  capacity  was  beneficent,  legiti- 
mate, and  necessary.  But  after  the  pupil  becomes  of  age, 
the  l)est  of  guardians  acts  as  a  Ifindrance  from  which  he 
seeks  deliverance.  The  Renaissance  had  actually  destroyed 
tlie  claim,  which  the  Church  advanced,  of  being  the  sole 
and  privileged  school,  but  it  acknowledged  tlie  Churcli  as 
tlie  liigliest  religious  and  moral  autliority.  The  Reforma- 
tion liiiishes  the  work  of  lh<'  lil'tcciith  century  by  emanci- 
pating the  conscience.  The  sale  of  indulgences  formed 
the  iminetUate  occasion  for  the  outbreak.     This  shameful 


276  PHILOSOPHY   OF  THE   MIDDLE   AGES 

traffic  had  been  legalized  by  the  Catholic  system.  Since 
tlie  Church  is  God's  representative  on  earth,  whatever 
she  commands  agrees  with  God's  own  will.  Hence  if  she 
demands  money  from  the  faithful  and  couples  with  the 
contribution  the  promise  of  the  pardon  of  sins,  the  faithful 
can  do  nothing  but  submit  to  her  authority.  The  proce- 
dure may  perhaps  shock  the  moral  sense  a  little.  But 
what  are  our  individual  feelings  against  the  revelation 
which  the  Church  receives  from  God?  Are  God's  ways 
our  ways,  and  is  not  the  divine  folly  wiser  than  the  wis- 
dom of  men?  Was  not  the  revealed  truth  an  offence  to 
the  children  of  the  age  from  the  very  beginning?  .  .  . 
Luther's  conscience  rebelled  against  such  sophistry.  By 
protesting  against  these  scandalous  indulgences  he  revolted 
against  the  dogma  sanctioning  them,  and  against  the  spir- 
itual power  which  recommended  them.  For  the  author- 
ity of  so  evil-minded  a  church  he  substitutes  the  supreme 
authority  of  Scripture ;  against  the  Catholic  principle  of 
meritorious  works  he  opposes  the  doctrine  of  justification 
by  faith. 

The  principle  proclaimed  by  Luther,  and  soon  after  by 
Zwingli,  Calvin,  and  Farel,  quickly  penetrated  and  power- 
fully influenced  all  spheres  of  human  action.  As  soon 
as  it  was  acknowledg-ed  as  a  truth  that  salvation  comes 
through  faith  alone  and  not  by  works,  the  dispensations  con- 
ferred by  the  Church  lost  their  value.  If  grace  is  every- 
thing and  merit  nothing,  then,  it  must  be  confessed,  God 
cannot  be  thankful  to  us  for  renouncing  family,  society, 
and  the  joys  and  duties  of  life.  Even  Luther,  who  is  by 
no  means  a  lover  of  philosophy,  but  who  has  a  very  lively 
.  appreciation  of  nature,  really  advances  the  humanitarian 
and  modern  cause  by  repudiating,  in  principle  at  least,  the 
dualism  of  the  spiritual  and  the  temporal,  of  priests  and 
laymen,  of  heaven  and  earth.  Melancthon,  who  is  both  a 
disciple  of  the  Renaissance  and  a  champion  of  the  Refor- 


SCHOLASTICISM  AND  THEOSOPHY  277 

mation,  plainly  recognizes  the  community  of  interests 
existing  between  tlie  literary  and  the  religious  revival. 
Tlie  two  currents  ultimately  meet  in  Ulrich  Zwingli,  ^  who 
was  both  an  earnest  Christian  and  a  profound  thinker, 
and  whose  theology  is  an  energetic  protest  against  the 
antithesis  of  a  crodless  nature  and  a  God  antagonistic  to 
nature. 

8  47.     Scholasticism  and  Theosophy  in  the  Protestant  Coun- 
tries.    Jacob  Bohme 

Zwingli's  progressive  tendencies,  however,  made  little 
headway,  during  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries, 
against  the  doctrinary  zeal  of  the  theologians  of  the  North. 
The  authority  of  the  Church  and  of  the  Pope  was  super- 
seded, among  the  Protestants,  by  the  symbolism  of  the 
Reformation.  It  was  impossible  to  pass  immechately  from 
the  rule  of  authority  to  absolute  freedom.  The  religious  con- 
science, which  had  been  violently  agitated  by  a  sudden  re- 
volution, needed  a  capable  guide  in  place  of  the  one  just  lost. 
Theology,  again,  could  not,  in  its  struggle  with  Catholicism, 
do  without  an  external,  visible,  and  standard  authority  in 
matters  of  science  and  religion.  Hence  the  Reformation 
produced  no  immediate  change  in  philosophy.  In  spite  of 
the  efforts  of  Nicolas  Taurellus,^  of  Mompelgard  (1547- 
1606)  and  Pierre  de  la  Ramee  or  Ramus,'^  (1515-1572), 

1  Works,  ed.  Schuler  and  Schulthess,  8  vols.,  Zurich,  1S2S-42  ;  [E. 
Zeller,  Das  theolofjische  Sijstem  Zirincjlis,  Tubingen,  1853 ;  Dilthey, 
A.  f.  G.d.  Ph.  VI.\ 

2  Philosophice  Iruimphus,  Bale,  1573;  Alpes  rccsfe  (ai^ainst  CcTsalpi- 
nus),  Frankfort,  1507;  Sijnnpsis  Arist.  Metnphy^.,  Hanover,  1500;  De 
mundo,  Aml)erg,  1003 ;  Uranolnr/ia,  ih.,  1603;  De  rerum  ceternitdle, 
Marburg,  1004.  See  F.  X.  Schmidt  aus  Schwarzenberg,  Nicolas 
Taurelliis,  der  ersfe  deutsche  Philosoph,  2d  ed.,  Erlangen,  1864. 

'  Scholarum  phijs.  libri  VflL,  Paris,  1505;  ScJidI.  mctnpJn/s.  libri 
XIV.,  Paris,  1560.  See  the  monographs  of  Ch.  Waddington  (Paris, 
1848)  and  Cli.  Demaze  (Paris,  18G1). 


278  PHILOSOPHY    OF   THE   MIDDLE   AGES 

who  bitterly  opposed  tlie  routine  methods  and  the  system 
of  Aristotle,  as  then  understood,  the  Universities  continued 
to  teach  traditional  Peripateticism  in  the  form  adapted  by 
Melancthon  ^  to  the  needs  of  the  Protestant  dogma. 

The  anti-scholastic  opposition  of  Reuchlin,  Agrippa,  and 
Paracelsus  was  continued  by  the  Saxon  pastor  Valentine 
WEirxEL,2  (1533-1503),  the  two  Van  Helmonts,^  the  Eng- 
lishman Robert  Fludd,*  (died  1637),  who,  like  a  true 
Protestant,  bases  his  cosmology  on  Genesis,  the  learned 
Comenius,^  (died  1671),  whose  trinity  of  matter,  light,  and 
spirit  calls  to  mind  the  three  stages  of  being  in  Plotinus 
and  the  three  Peripatetic  principles  of  matter,  movement, 
and  action;  finally,  by  Jacob  Bohme  the  theosophist  of 
Gorlitz  (1575-1624). 

Bohme  ^  was  born  of  poor  parents  and  apprenticed  to  a 
shoemaker  at  an  early  age.  He  received  absolutely  no 
instruction,  and  knew  only  the  Bible  and  the  writings  of 
Weigel.     But  these  sufficed  to  develop  the  latent  capaci- 

1  EiJiicce  cloctnnre  elementa,  1538.     [See  Dilfchey,  A.f.  G.  d.  Ph.  F/.] 

^  Fvccdi  aeavTov,  nnxce  te  ipsum,  1G18,  etc.  [See  the  works  of  J.  Opel 
(Leipsic,  1861),  and  A.  Israel  (Zschopau,  1889).] 

3  J.  Bapt.  Helmont  (died  1644).  Opera,  Amsterdam,  1648;  [Germ. 
ed.  1683].  F.  Merc.  Helmont  (died  1699).  Seder  olam  s.  ordo  sceculo- 
rum,  hoc  est  historlca  enarratio  doctrince  philosophicce  per  unum  in  quo  sunt 
omnia,  1693.     [See  Rixner  and  Siber]. 

*  Hixtoria  macro-  et  microcosmi  metaphi/sica,  pliysica  et  technica,  Op- 
penlieim,  I6I7 ;  Pkilos.  Mosaica,  Giida,  1638. 

®  Synopsis  pJu/sices  ad  lumen  divinum  refnrmatce,  Lei]3sic,  1638.  [Cf. 
J.  Kvacsala,  Ueber  J.  A.  Comenius  Philosophie,  Leipsic,  1886.] 

6  [Coll.  Works,  ed.  by  Schiebler,  2d  ed.,  1 861  ff. ;  English  transl.  by 
William  Law,  2  vols.  4°,  1864  ;  French  transl.  of  several  writings,  by 
L.  C.  St.  Martin,  Paris,  1800.  Cf.  v.  Baader,  Vorlesunf/en  iiber  Bohme^s 
Theologumena  (Works,  vol.  TIL,  pp.  357-436;  also  vol.  XIIT.)  ;  II.  A. 
Fechner,  Jacob  Bohme,  sein  Leben  und  seine  ScJiriflen,  Gorlitz,  1853  ; 
A.  Peip,  Jacob  Bohme  der  deutsche  Philosoph,  Leipsic,  1860  ;  also  Car- 
riere  (cited  before)  and  Windelbaud,  Geschichte  der  neueren  Philoso- 
phie, vol.  I.,  §  19  .—  Tr.] 


SCHOLASTICISM  AND   THEOSOPHY  279 

ties  of  this  cliild  of  the  people.  He  divines  that  the  visible 
things  conceal  a  great  mgsteri/,  and  he  experiences  a  deep 
desire  to  unravel  it.  An  earnest  Cliiistian,  he  studies  the 
Scriptures,  entreating  God  to  enlighten  him  with  liis  Spirit, 
and  to  reveal  to  him  what  no  mortal  man  can  discover 
tlu'ough  his  own  efforts  ;  and  his  prayers  are  answered.  In 
three  successive  revelations,  God  shows  him  the  inner  centre 
of  mysterious  nature  and  helps  liim  to  penetrate  the  inner- 
most heart  of  creatures  at  a  single  rapid  glance.  Yielding 
to  the  urgent  wishes  of  some  of  his  friends,  he  decides 
to  record  his  vision  in  a  treatise  called  Auo'ora,  which  pro- 
cures liim  the  title,  the  Go-man  philosopher.  This  book, 
like  liis  other  works, ^  is  written  in  German,  the  only 
language  with  wliich  Bohme  was  familiar,  and  for  that 
reason,  if  for  no  other,  belongs  to  the  modern  world.  It 
contains  heresies  of  which  the  author  has  not  the  slightest 
notion,  but  which  are  vigorously  condemned  by  the 
ecclesiastical  authorities  of  Giirlitz  and  cause  him  to  be 
placed  under  strict  surveillance  for  the  rest  of  his  days. 

Indeed,  from  the  Preface  on,  the  sincerest  orthodoxy  is 
mingled  with  the  most  advanced  conceptions  of  ancient 
and  modern  speculation.  If  you  desire  to  be  a  philosopher 
and  to  fathom  the  nature  of  God  and  the  nature  of  things, 
first  pray  to  God  for  the  Holy  Ghost,  who  is  in  God  and  in 
nature.  Aided  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  you  can  penetrate  even 
into  the  hody  of  God,  who  is  nature^  and  into  the  essence  of 
the  holy  Trinity :  for  the  Divine  Spirit  dwells  in  the  whole 
of  nature  as  the  human  spirit  dwells  in  the  body  of  man. 

Enlightened  by  this  Spirit,  what  does  Bdlime  find  at  the 

*  Von  (Jen  drei  Principifn  rles  goltUchen  Wexe.na ;  Vom  dreifachen  Lehen 
(les  Mnnschen  ;  Von  der  Menschicerdung  Jesii  Christi ;  Vom  irdischen  und 
hhnmUsrhf'.n  Myxlerinm:  Von  wahrer  Busse  :  Van  der  Wieflerc/ehurt ;  Von 
der  Gnadenwahl ,  ]\fi/stn-iiim  wnginim,  cto.  (all  in  Cormaii).  Editions 
of  Amstorduiii  (1075,  ins2,  17:^0)  aiul  Lcijisic  (1S:',1  ff.,  7  vols.). 

■^  Aurnni,  cliap.  ii.  12;  X.  50,  und  j)assi7n. 


280  PHILOSOPHY   OF  THE   MIDDLE   AGES 

very  source  of  tilings  ?  A  constant  duality,  which  he  calls 
o-entleness  and  sternness,  sweetness  and  bitterness,  good 
and  evil.  Everything  that  lives  contains  these  contraries. 
Indifferent  things,  —  things,  that  is,  neither  sweet  nor  bitter, 
neither  warm  nor  cold,  neitlier  good  nor  bad,  —  are  dead. 
Bohme  sees  this  conflict,  this  struggle  between  two  opposing 
principles,  which  become  reconciled  in  death,  in  all  beings, 
without  exception,  —  in  terrestrial  beings,  in  angels,  and  in 
God,i  who  constitutes  the  essence  of  all  beings.'^  God  with- 
out the  Son  is  a  ivill  that  desires  nothing  because  it  is 
everything  and  has  everything,  —  a  will  without  a  motive,  a 
love  without  an  object,  a  powerless  power,  an  unsubstantial 
shadow,  a  blind  essence  witliout  intelligence  and  without 
life,  a  centre  without  a  circumference,  a  light  without  bright- 
ness, a  sun  without  rays,  a  night  without  stars,  a  chaos  with- 
out light,  color,  or  form :  a  bottondess  abyss,  eternal  death, 
nothingness.  God  the  Father  and  the  Son  is  the  living  God, 
the  absolute  or  concrete  spirit,  the  perfect  being.  The  Son 
is  the  self-centred  infinity,  the  heart  of  the  Father;  the  torch 
that  illuminates  the  boundlessness  of  the  Divine  Being,  as 
the  sun  sheds  its  light  into  the  immeasurable  space ;  the 
eternal  circle  which  God  describes  around  himself  ;  the  hody 
of  God,  having  the  stars  as  its  organs,  and  their  orbits  as  its 
eternally-throbbing  arteries ;  the  totality  of  the  forms  con- 
tained in  heaven  and  earth;  the  mysterious  nature  that 
lives,  and  feels,  and  suffers,  and  dies,  and  is  again  revived 
in  us.  But  the  opposition  which  constitutes  the  essence  of 
God  and  of  all  beings  is  not  the  primordial  being  :  it  comes 
from  Unity ;  the  Son  comes  from  the  Father  and  is  a  sec- 

1  Id.,  chap.  ii.  40. 

2  Aurora,  Pref.,  97;  105:  Gott,  in  dcm  Alles  ist  und  der  seJber  AUes 
ist;  chap.  i.  6  :  Golt  ist  der  Quellbrunn  oder  das  Herz  der  Natur  :  iii.  12  : 
Er  ist  von  Nichts  hergekommen,  sondern  ist  selber  AUes  in  Eioigkeit ; 
iii.  14  :  Der  Vater  ist  Alles  und  alle  Kraft  besteht  in  ihm  ;  vii.  20 :  Seine 
Krnft  ist  Alles  und  allenthalben :  vii.  25:  Des  Voters  Kraft  ist  AUes  in 
und  liber  alien  Hhnmeln  ;  and  passiin. 


THE   SCIENTIFIC  MOVEMENT  281 

ondaiy  being.  First  nature,  then  mind ;  first  will  without 
an  object  or  self-eonsciousness  (^der  uiigrundlichc  Wille)^ 
then  conscious  W\\\  {der  fassliche  Wille^). 

Although  we  may  without  difficulty  extract  the  charac- 
teristic conceptions  of  concrete  spiritualism  from  these 
metaphors,  they  assume  a  purely  theological  form  in 
Bohme.  This  pioneer  of  German  philosophy  is  a  seer,  a 
prophet  who  does  not  seem  to  understand  himself,  so  im- 
bued is  he  with  the  traditional  view  of  things.  Thought 
has  simply  changed  masters  in  the  Protestant  world ;  it  is 
what  it  was  before,  a  servant,  ancilla  theologicc.  It  owes 
its  final  deliverance  to  the  discoveries  of  Columbus, 
Magellan,  Copernicus,  Kepler,  and  Galileo,  who  refute  the 
accepted  notions  concerning  the  earth,  the  sun,  and  the 
heavens,  and  thereby  destroy  the  prejudice  which  makes 
the  Scripture  what  it  neither  is  nor  claims  to  be  :  an 
infallible  text-book  of  physical  science. 

8  48.     The  Scientific  Movement  2 

From  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth  century  on.  Western 
Europe  experienced  a  series  of  surprises.  Led  by  the  Greek 
scholars  who  settled  in  Italy,  she  entered  directly  into  the 
promised  land,  which  the  Arabians  of  Spain  had  in  part 
revealed  to  her :  I  mean,  antiquity  with  its  literature,  phi- 
losophy, and  art.  The  historical  horizon  of  our  fathers, 
which  originally  bounded  tlie  Catholic  era,  grows  larger 
and  extends  far  beyond  the  beginnings  of  Christianity. 
The  Catholic  Church,  outside  of  which  nothing  but  dark- 
ness and  T^arbarism  seemed  to  prevail,  Avas  now  regarded 

1  M)ixterlnm  mngnum,  chap.  vi. ;  Von  ikr  Gnadenwahl,  chap.  i. ;  Au- 
rora, chaps,  viii.-xi. 

2  See  the  works  of  Montucla,  Dclambre,  Chaslos,  Draper,  etc., 
quoted  on  p.  159;  IIumboMt,  Cosmos,  vols.  T.  and  IT.;  K.  Fischer, 
Introduction  to  the  History  of  Modern  Philosophy,  vol.  T.,  1  ;  [Peschel, 
Geschickte  des  Zeilallers  der  Enidicknngen.  —  Tit.]. 


282  PHILOSOPHY   OF  THE   MIDDLE   AGES 

simply  as  the  daughter  and  heir  of  an  older,  richer,  more 
diversified  civilization,  of  a  civilization  more  in  accord 
with  the  genius  of  the  Western  races.  The  Romance 
and  Germanic  nations  of  Europe  feel  closely  akin  to  these 
Greeks  and  Romans  whom  the  Church  excluded  from  her 
pale,  but  who  were,  in  so  many  respects,  superior  to  the 
Christians  of  the  fifteenth  century  in  all  the  spheres  of 
human  activity.  The  Catholic  prejudice,  according  to 
which  there  can  be  neither  salvation  nor  real  civilization 
nor  religion  nor  morality  beyond  the  confines  of  the 
Church,  gradually  disappears.  Men  cease  to  be  ex- 
clusive Catholics  and  become  m^n,  humanists,  and  phil- 
anthropists in  the  broadest  sense  of  the  term.  Not  merely 
a  few  stray  glimpses  of  the  past,  but  the  whole  history  of 
Aryan  Europe  with  its  countless  political,  literary,  philo- 
logical, arclueological,  and  geographical  problems  are  un- 
rolled before  the  astonished  gaze  of  our  ancestors. 
Henceforth  the  historical  sciences,  which  received  but 
little  attention  during  antiquity,  and  were  almost  unknown 
to  the  Middle  Ages,  constituted  an  important  branch  of 
study,  and  finally  occupied  the  centre  of  interest. 

Scarcely  had  man  discovered  humanity  when  he  was 
made  acquainted  with  the  real  form  of  his  earthly  habita- 
tion, of  which  he  had  hitherto  seen  but  one  of  the  fa^'ades. 
The  Catholic  universe  consisted  of  the  world  known  to 
the  Romans,  i.  e.,  of  the  Mediterranean  valley  and  the 
Southwestern  part  of  Asia,  with  Northern  Europe  added. 
But  now  Columbus  discovers  the  New  World.  Vasco  De 
Gama  sails  around  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  and  finds  the 
sea-route  to  India ;  above  all,  Magellan  succeeds  in  making 
the  tour  of  the  earth.  These  discoveries  verify  an  hypo- 
thesis with  which  the  ancients  had  long  been  familiar,  — 
the  hypothesis  that  our  earth  is  a  globe,  isolated  and  sus- 
pended in  space.  Wliat  could  be  more  natural  than  to 
infer  that  the  stars  too  float  in  space  without  being  attached 


THE   SCIENTIFIC   MOVEMENT  283 

to  anything,  and  that  the  s^jheres  of  Aristotle  are  mere 
illusions  ? 

The  earth  is  now  conceived  as  a  globe,  but  everybody 
still  regards  it  as  the  immovable  centre  around  which  the 
heavenly  spheres  revolve.  Tycho  Biiahe  directs  the  first 
attack  against  the  traditional  and  popular  cosmography  by 
placing  the  sun  in  the  centre  of  the  planetary  system ;  but 
he  still  believes  that  this  solar  system  revolves  around  the 
earth.  Copernicus  ^  takes  the  decisive  step  by  placing 
the  earth  among  the  planets  and  the  sun  in  the  centre  of 
the  system.  Tins  theory,  which  had  already  been  advanced 
by  several  of  the  ancients,^  and  which  Copernicus  presents 
merely  as  an  liypothesis,  is  confirmed  by  the  splendid  labors 
of  Keplei;,^  who  discovers  the  form  of  the  planetary  orbits 
and  the  laws  of  their  motion ;  and  of  Galileo,*  who  teaches 
that  the  earth  has  a  double  motion,  and,  with  a  telescope 
of  his  own  construction,  discovers  the  satellites  of  Jupiter 
and  the  law  of  their  revolution. 

The  heliocentric  theory  arouses  great  alarm  in  both 
Churches.  Kepler  is  persecuted;  Galileo  is  forced  to 
retract.  The  stubborn  conservatives  maintain  that  the 
accex)tance  of  the  Copernican  system  would  destroy  the 
very  foundations  of  Christianity.  If  the  sun  is  the  centre 
of  the  planetary  orbits,  if  the  earth  moves,  then,  so  they 
hold,  Joshua  did  not  perform  his  miracle,  then  the  Bible 
is  in  error,  and  the  Church  fallible.  If  the  earth  is  a 
planet,  then  it  moves  in  heaven,  and  is  no  longer  the  anti- 
thesis of  heaven;   then  heaven  and  earth  are   no   longer 

1  De  orhium  coelestlum  revolutionibus  lihri  VI.,  Nuremberg,  1543. 

2  8  22. 

^  Aslronomia  nova,  Prague,  1009,  etc.;  Complete  Works,  ed.  by 
Friscli,  Frankfurt,  185S  if.  [Cf.  Sigwart,  Klelne  Srhriflen,  I.  \)p  182- 
220;  Kucken,  Britriige  znr  Geschichle  der  neuern  I'liiJoso/ihii'.'] 

*  Complete  Works,  o<l.  Alberti,  Florence,  184:i  fl'.  |C'f.  Natorp, 
Galilei  ah  Pfiilosopk,  Philos.  Momilshrfic,  1882,  pp.  193  ff.] 


284  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

opposed,  as  tradition  assumed,  but  form  one  indivisible  uni- 
verse. Moreover,  to  affirm,  in  defiance  of  Aristotle,  that 
the  world  is  infinite,  is  to  deny  the  existence  of  a  heaven 
apart  from  the  universe,  of  a  supernatural  order  of  things, 
of  a  God  on  high.  That  is  the  way  the  Church  reasoned ; 
she  identified  faith  with  doctrines  of  faith,  God  with  our 
ideas  of  God,  and  stamped  the  adherents  of  Cojjernicus  as 
atheists. 

But  in  spite  of  the  efforts  of  the  Church,  the  new  the- 
ories spread,  tlie  discoveries  and  inventions  multiplied. 
First  came  the  invention  of  printing,  then  the  compass, 
and  then  the  telescope.  Before  Newton  completed  the 
new  cosmology  by  his  theory  of  universal  attraction,  and 
transformed  what,  until  then,  had  been  a  mere  Ixypothesis 
into  an  axiom,  the  sciences  had  shaken  off  the  yoke  of 
Scholasticism,  and  slowly  but  surely  advanced.  Leonardo 
DA  Vlnci  and  his  fellow-countryman  Fracastor  continue 
the  labors  of  Arcliimedes  and  the  scholars  of  Alexandria  in 
physics,  optics,  and  mechanics.  The  Frenchman  Viete 
extends  the  limits  of  algebra  and  applies  it  to  geometry ; 
and  the  Englishman  Neper  (Lord  John  Napier)  invents 
the  logarithms.  In  biology,  the  Belgian  Vesale,  by  his 
De  corporis  humarii  fahrica  (1553),  lays  the  foundation  of 
the  science  of  human  anatomy ;  and  the  Englishman  Har- 
vey, in  a  work  published  1628,^  proves  the  theory  of  the 
circulation  of  the  blood,  i:)reviously  advanced  by  the  Span- 
iard Michel  Servet,^  and  the  Italians  Realdo  Colombo  ^ 
and  Andi'eas  Csesalpinus.'* 

Of  all  the  modern  discoveries,  the  Copernican  theory 

^  De  motu  cordis  et  sanguinis,  Frankfurt,  1(328, 

2  Pulmonary  circulation  is  taught  in  a  passage  of  the  Christianismi 
restitutio,  begun  as  early  as  1546. 

8  1494-1559 ;  Vesale's  successor  at  Padua  (1544),  and  the  author 
of  De  re  anatomica  (1558). 

*  111  his  Qucestiones  mediccc,  1598. 


THE  SCIENTIFIC  MOVEMENT  285 

proved  to  be  the  most  influential.  The  appearance  of  the 
Celestial  Revolutions  is  the  most  important  event,  the  great- 
est epochs  in  the  intellectual  history  of  Europe.  It  marks 
the  beginning  of  the  modern  world.  By  revealing  to  us 
the  infinite^  wliich  antiquity  conceived  as  a  mere  negation, 
it  did  not,  indeed,  shake  our  faith  in  things  invisible,  — 
nay,  it  revived  and  strengthened  the  same,  —  but  it  seri- 
ously moditied  our  ideas  concerning  their  relation  to  the 
world.  For  transcendentalism,  the  ruling  notion  of  the 
Middle  Ages,  it  definitively  substituted  the  modern  j^rin- 
ciple  of  divine  immanency} 

This  conception  had  as  its  necessary  consequence  the 
philosopliical  reform,  which  was  inaugurated  by  the  free- 
tliinkers  of  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  centuries  and 
continued,  about  the  year  IGOO,  by  a  number  of  bold 
innovators  (Bruno  in  Italy,  Bacon  in  England,  Descartes 
in  France). 

^  Hegel  (p.  c),  who  recognizes  in  immanency  the  ruling  thought  of 
the  modern  world,  though  dating  it  from  the  Lutheran  Reformation, 
characterizes  the  transition  from  the  Middle  Ages  to  our  own  epoch 
as  follows  :  "  It  seemed  to  mankind  as  though  God  had  just  created 
sun,  moon,  stars,  plants,  and  animals ;  as  if  the  laws  of  nature  had 
just  been  established.  Now,  for  the  first  time,  they  became  interested 
in  all  these  things,  recognizing  their  own  reason  in  the  universal  rea- 
son. "War  was  declared,  in  the  name  of  the  natural  laws,  against  the 
great  superstition  of  the  period,  and  against  the  prevailing  notions 
regarding  the  formidable  and  remote  powers,  which,  as  was  thought, 
could  not  be  overcome  except  by  magic.  h\  the  battle  which  ensued, 
Catholics  and  Protestants  fought  side  by  side." 


Ill 

MODERN   PHILOSOPHY 


FIRST   PERIOD 

THE   AGE  OF  INDEPENDENT  METAPHYSICS 
(FROM   BRUNO  TO  LOCKE  AND  KANT) 

§  49.     Giordano  Bruno 

Giordano  Bruno  ^  was  born  at  Nola,  near  Naples,  in 
1548.     While  still  a  young  man,  he  entered  the  Doniini- 

1  [For  references,  see  especially  pp.  12-15.  —  Tr.] 

2  The  Italian  writings  edited  by  A.  Wagner,  2  vols.,  Leipsic,  1829 ; 
[new  edition  by  P.  de  Lagarde,  2  vols.,  Gbttingen,  1888-89] ;  Latin 
writings  ed.  by  A.  F.  Gfrorer,  Stuttgart,  1834,  incomplete;  [also  by 
Fiorentino  and  others,  4  vols.,  Naples,  1880,  188G;  Florence,  1889; 
W.  Lntoslawski,  Jordani  Bruni  Nolani  0pp.  iiiedita  manu  propina  scrlpta, 
Archiv  f.  Geschichte  der  Philos.,  II.,  .S26-.371,  394-417  ;  F.  Tocco,  Le 
opere  inedite  di  G.  B.,  Naples,  1891.  —  Tr.].  See  Christian  Barthol- 
mess,  Jordano  Bruno,  2  vols.,  Paris,  1848-47 ;  [R.  Mariano,  G.  B.,  la 
vita  et  ruomo,  Rome,  1881];  H.  Brunnhofer,  G.  B.'s  Weltanschauung 
und  Verharigniss,  Leipsic,  1882  ;  [J.  Frith,  Life  of  G.  B.,  the  Nolati, 
revised  by  M.  Carriere,  London,  1887 ;  Sigwart,  Kleine  Schriften,  I., 
pp.  49  ff.  —  Tr.].  M.  Felice  Tocco  has  published :  Le  opere  latine  di 
G.  B.  esposte  e  confrontate  con  le  italiane,  Florence,  1889,  and  Le  opere 
inedite  di  G.  B.  M.  Tocco  distinguishes  three  phases  in  the  philo- 
sophical development  of  Bruno :  a  Neo-Platonic,  an  Eleatic  and  Ilera- 
clitean,  and  a  Democritean  phase.  With  the  head  of  the  materialistic 
school,  Bruno  advances  the  notion  of  an  infinite  number  of  worlds 
and  the  theory  of  atoms,  which,  from  his  animistic  point  of  view, 
become  monads.  Bartholmess  lays  especial  stress  on  the  first  of  these 
phases ;  Brunnhofer,  on  the  second ;  but  neither  interpretation  ex- 
hausts Bruno's  thought. 


GIORDANO  BRUNO  287 

can  order,  but  the  influence  exercised  upon  liim  by  the 
writings  of  Nicohis  Cusanus,  Raymond  Lullus,  Telesio, 
and  his  profound  love  of  nature,  soon  tmiied  him  against 
the  monastic  life  and  Catholicism.  He  visited  Geneva, 
where  he  met  with  bitter  cUsappointments,  Paris,  London, 
and  Germany,  journeying  from  Wittenberg  to  Piague,  from 
Helmstaedt  to  Frankfort.  But  Protestantism  proved  no 
more  satisfactory  to  him  than  the  religion  of  his  fathers. 
Upon  liis  return  to  Italy  he  was  arrested  at  Venice  by  order 
of  the  Inquisition,  imprisoned  for  two  years,  and  then  burnt 
at  the  stake  in  Rome  (IGOO).  His  adventurous  life  did  not 
hinder  him  from  writing  numerous  treatises,  the  most 
remarkable  of  which  are  the  following :  Delia  causa,  prin- 
cipio  ed  uno  ^  (Venice,  1584) ;  Del  infinito  universo  e  del 
mondi^  {id.,  1584);  De  tripUei  miiiimo  et  mens ur a  (Fiwnli- 
f  ort,  1591) ;  De  moiiade,  numero  et  figura  {id.,  1591) ;  De 
immenso  et  4miumerahilibics  s.  de  universo  et  mundis  ^  {id. 
1591). 

Bruno  was  the  first  metaphysician  of  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury who  um-eservedly  accepted  the  heliocentric  system. 
Aristotle's  spheres  and  divisions  of  the  world  he  regarded 
as  purely  imaginary.  Space,  he  held,  has  no  such  limits, 
no  insurmountable  barriers  separating  our  world  from  an 
extra-mundane  region  reserved  for  pure  spirits,  angels, 
and  the  supreme  Being.  Heaven  is  the  infinite  universe.* 
The  fixed  stars  are  so  many  suns,  surrounded  by  planets, 
which,  in  turn,  are  accompanied  by  satellites.  The  earth 
is  a  mere  planet,  and  does  not  occupy  a  central  and 
privileged  place  in  the  heavens.  The  same  may  be  said 
of  our  sun,  for  the  universe  is  a  system  of  solar  systems. 

1  [rifrnian  transl.  by  A.  Lasson  in  Kircliinann's  PhUnanphinrhe  Bib- 
liothfiL;  2(\  ed.  1889.  —  Tu.] 

2  (■florman  transl.  })y  L.  Kuhlciibock,  Berlin,  1S93.  — Tr.] 
8  r/^/..  1800. —  Tr.] 

*  D'^  bniiif'ii.to  ft  !rt)i7imeriihl/iljiis,  ]^.  1.50. 


288  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

If  the  universe  is  infinite,  we  must  necessarily  reason 
as  follows :  There  cannot  be  two  infinities ;  now  the  exists 
ence  of  the  world  cannot  be  denied ;  hence  God  and  the 
universe  are  but  one  and  the  same  being.  In  order  to 
escape  the  charge  of  atheism,  Bruno  distinguishes  between 
the  universe  and  the  world:  God,  the  infinite  Being,  or 
the  Universe,  is  the  principle  or  the  eternal  cause  of  the 
world :  natura  naturans ;  the  world  is  the  totality  of  his 
effects  or  phenomena :  natura  naturata.  It  would,  he 
tliinks,  be  atheism  to  identify  God  with  the  world,  for  the 
world  is  merely  the  sum  of  individual  beings,  and  a  sum  is 
not  a  being,  but  a  mere  plu'ase.  But  to  identify  God  with 
the  universe  is  not  to  deny  him ;  on  the  contrary,  it  is  to 
magnify  liim;  it  is  to  extend  the  idea  of  the  supreme 
Being  far  beyond  the  limits  assigned  to  him  by  those  who 
conceive  him  as  a  being  hy  the  side  of  other  beings,  i.  e.,  as  a 
finite  being.  Hence  Bruno  loved  to  call  himself  Fhilotheos,'^ 
in  order  to  distinguish  clearly  between  his  conception  and 
atheism.  This  proved  to  be  a  useless  precaution,  and  did 
not  succeed  in  misleading  his  judges. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  God  of  Bruno  is  neither  the 
creator  nor  even  the  first  mover,  but  the  soul  of  the  world ; 
he  is  not  the  transcendent  and  temporary  cause,  but,  as 
Spinoza  would  say,  the  immanent  cause,  i.  e.,  the  inner  and 
permanent  cause  of  things ;  he  is  both  the  material  and 
formal  principle  which  produces,  organizes,  and  governs 
them  from  within  outwardly :  in  a  word,  their  eternal  sub- 
stance. The  beings  which  Bruno  distinguishes  by  tlie 
words  "  universe "  and  "  world,"  natura  naturans  and 
natura  naturata,  really  constitute  but  one  and  the  same 
thing,  considered  sometimes  from  the  realistic  standpoint 
(in  the  mediaeval  sense),  sometimes  from  the  nominalistic 
standpoint.2     The  universe,  which  contains  and  produces 

^  Philotheus  Jordanux  Brxmus  Nolanus  de  compendiom  architectura  et 
compkmento  artis  Lullii,  Paris,  1582. 
2  Delia  causa,  72  ff. 


GIORDANO  BEUNO  289 

all  things,  has  neither  beginning  nor  end  ;  the  world  (that 
is,  the  beings  which  it  contains  and  produces)  has  a  begin- 
nino-  and  an  end.  The  conception  of  nature  and  of  neces- 
sary production  takes  the  place  of  the  notion  of  a  creator 
and  free  creation.  Freedom  and  necessity  are  synonymous  ; 
beino-,  power,  and  will  constitute  in  God  but  one  and  the 
same  indivisible  act.^ 

The  creation  of  the  world  does  not  in  any  way  modify 
the  God-universe,  the  eternally-identical,  immutable,  in- 
commensurable, and  incomparable  Being.  By  unfolcUng 
himself,  the  infinite  Being  produces  a  countless  number 
of  genera,  species,  and  individuals,  and  an  infinite  variety 
of  cosmical  laws  and  relations  (which  constitute  the  life  of 
the  universe  and  the  phenomenal  world),  without  himself 
becoming  a  genus,  species,  individual,  or  substance,  or 
£ubjecting  himself  to  any  law,  or  entering  into  any  rela- 
tions. He  is  an  absolute  and  intUvisible  unity,  having 
nothing  in  common  with  numerical  unity;  he  is  in  all 
things,  and  all  things  are  in  liim.  In  him  every  existing 
tiling  lives,  moves,  and  has  its  being.  He  is  present  in 
the  blade  of  grass,  in  the  grain  of  sand,  in  the  atom  that 
floats  in  the  sunbeam,  as  well  as  in  the  boundless  All,  — 
that  is,  he  is  omnipresent,  because  he  is  indivisible.  The 
substantial  and  natural  omnipresence  of  the  infinite  Being 
both  explains  and  destroys  the  dogma  of  his  supernatural 
presence  in  the  consecrated  host,  which  the  ex-Dominican 
regards  as  the  corner-stone  of  Christianity.  Because  of 
this  real  all-presence  of  the  infinite  One,  eveiything  in 
nature  is  alive ;  nothing  can  be  destroyed ;  death  itself  is 
but  a  transformation  of  life.  The  merit  of  the  Stoics  con- 
sists in  their  having  recognized  the  world  as  a  living 
being;  that  of  the  Pythagoreans,  in  having  recognized  the 
mathematical  necessity  and  immutability  of  the  laws  gov 
eming  eternal  creation.^ 

*  De  immenso  el  inuvrnfrahilibux,  I.,  11.  '  Id.,  A  HI-,  10 

I» 


290  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

Bruno  sometimes  calls  the  Infinite,  the  Universe,  or  God, 
matter.  Matter  is  not  the  (j^t)  6v  of  Greek  idealism  and 
the  Schoolmen.  It  is  inextended,  i.  e.,  immaterial  in  its 
essence,  and  does  not  receive  its  being  from  a  positive 
principle  outside  of  itself  (the  form) ;  it  is,  on  the  contrary, 
the  real  source  of  all  forms  ;  it  contains  them  all  in  germ, 
and  produces  them  in  succession.  What  was  fir-st  a  seed 
becomes  a  stalk,  then  an  ear  of  corn,  then  bread,  then 
chyle,  then  blood,  then  animal  semen,  then  an  embryo, 
then  a  man,  then  a  corpse,  and  then  returns  to  earth  or 
stone  or  some  other  material,  only  to  pass  tlu'ough  the 
same  stages  again.  Thus  we  have  here  something  that  is 
changed  into  all  tilings,  and  yet  remains  substantially  the 
same.,  Hence,  matter  alone  seems  to  be  stable  and  eternal, 
and  deserves  to  be  called  a  principle.  Being  absolute,  it 
includes  all  forms  and  all  dimensions,  and  evolves  out  of 
itself  the  infinite  variety  of  forms  in  which  it  appears. 
When  we  say  a  thing  dies,  w^e  mean  that  a  new  thing  has 
been  produced ;  the  dissolution  of  a  combination  means  the 
formation  of  a  new  one. 

The  human  soul  is  the  highest  evolution  of  cosmical  life. 
It  springs  from  the  substance  of  all  things  through  the 
action  of  the  same  force  that  produces  an  ear  from  a  grain 
of  wheat.  All  beings  whatsoever  are  both  body  and  soul : 
all  are  living  monads,  reproducing,  in  a  particular  form, 
the  Monad  of  monads,  or  the  God-universe.  Corporeality 
is  the  effect  of  an  outward  movement  or  the  expansive 
force  of  the  monad;  in  thought  the  movement  of  the 
monad  returns  upon  itself.  Tliis  double  movement  of 
expansion  and  concentration  constitutes  the  life  of  the 
monad.  The  latter  lasts  as  long  as  the  backward  and  for- 
ward motion  producing  it,  and  dies  as  soon  as  this  ceases ; 
but  it  disappears  only  to  arise  again,  in  a  new  form,  soon 
after.  The  evolution  of  the  living  being  may  be  described 
as  the  expansion  of  a  vital  centre ;  life,  as  the  duration  of 


TOMJVLA.SO  CAMPANELLA  291 

the  sphere ;  death,  as  the  contraction  of  the  sphere  and  its 
return  to  the  vital  centre  whence  it  sprang.^ 

All  these  conceptions,  especially  the  evolutionism  of 
Bruno,  we  shall  meet  again  in  the  systems  of  Leibniz, 
Bonnet,  Diderot,  and  Hegel,  which  his  philosophy  contains 
in  germ  and  in  the  undifferentiated  state,  as  it  were.  As 
the  synthesis  of  monism  and  atomism,  idealism  and  ma- 
terialism, speculation  and  observation,  it  is  the  common 
soui'ce  of  modern  ontological  doctrines. 

§  50.     Tommaso  Campanella 

Another  Southern  Italian  and  Dominican,  ToiviiviAso 
Cajvipanella,2  anticipated  the  English  and  German  essays 
concerning  human  miderstanding,  i.  e.,  modern  criticism. 
Tliis  doughty  champion  of  philosophical  reform  and  Italian 
liberty  was  born  near  Stilo  in  Calabria,  1568,  and  died  at 
Paris,  1639,  after  spending  twenty-seven  years  in  a  Nea- 
politan dungeon  on  the  charge  of  having  consjjired  against 
the  Spanish  rule. 

Campanella  is  a  disciple  of  the  Greek  sceptics.  This 
school  taught  him  that  metaphysics  is  built  on  sand  unless 
it  rests  on  a  theory  of  knowledge.  His  philosophy  conse- 
quently first  discusses  the  formal  question.^ 

Our  knowledge  springs  from  two  sources :  sensible  ex- 
perience and  reasoning ;  it  is  empirical  or  speculative. 

^  De  iriplici  minimo,  pp.  10-17. 

^  Ope)-e  di  Tommaso  Campanella  ed.  by  A.  d'Aiicoiia,  Turin,  ISol 
{Campnnellce  Philosophia  sen.iibus  demonstrata,  Napli's,  15!iO;  Philos. 
rationnlis  e(  realis  paries  V.,  Paris,  1G38;  Uniceisalis  philosopJiue  sire 
metaphysicarum  rerum  juxta  propria  dogmata  })atirs  Iff.,  id.,  l(i;58; 
Atheismus  triumphalus.  Koine,  1^31  ;  De  gentilismo  nan  retincndo,  Paris, 
1830,  etc.)  ;  [Cf.  Baldaciiini,  Vita  e  JHosofn  di  T.  C,  Naples,  1840-43; 
Sigwart,  Kleine  Schri/ten,  I.,  pp.  125  ff.  —  Tn.] 

'  For  Cainpanella's  theory  of  knowledge,  see  especially  the  Inti-o- 
duclion  to  his  Universal  f^hilosoplnj  or  Metapliysics. 


292  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

Is  the  knowledge  acquired  by  sensation  certain?  Most 
of  the  ancients  are  of  the  opinion  that  tlie  testimony  of  the 
senses  must  be  ignored,  and  the  sceptics  sum  up  their 
doubts  in  the  following  argument :  The  object  perceived 
by  the  senses  is  nothing  bvit  a  modification  of  the  subject, 
and  the  facts  which,  the  senses  tell  us,  are  taking  place 
outside  of  us,  are  in  reality  merely  taking  place  in  us. 
The  senses  are  my  senses  ;  they  are  a  part  of  myself ;  sen- 
sation is  a  fact  produced  in  me,  a  fact  which  I  explain  by 
an  external  cause ;  whereas  the  thinking  subject  might  be 
its  determining  but  unconscious  cause  as  easily  as  any 
object.  In  that  event,  how  can  we  reach  a  certain  knowl- 
edofe  of  the  existence  and  nature  of  external  thing's?  If 
the  object  which  I  perceive  is  merely  my  sensation,  how  can 
I  prove  that  it  exists  outside  of  me  ?  By  the  inner  sense, 
Campanella  answers.  Sense-perception  must  derive  the 
character  of  certitude,  which  it  does  not  possess  in  itself, 
from  reason ;  reason  transforms  it  into  knowledge.  Though 
the  metaphysician  may  doubt  the  veracity  of  the  senses,  he 
cannot  suspect  the  inner  sense.  Now,  the  latter  reveals 
to  me  my  existence  immediately,  and  in  such  a  way  as  to 
exclude  even  the  shadow  of  a  doubt ;  it  reveals  me  to 
myself  as  a  being  that  exists,  and  acts,  and  knows,  and 
wills ;  as  a  being,  furthermore,  that  is  far  from  doing  and 
knowing  everything.  In  other  words,  the  inner  sense 
reveals  to  me  both  my  existence  and  its  limitations.  Hence 
I  necessarily  conclude  that  there  is  a  being  that  limits  me, 
an  objective  world  different  from  myself,  or  a  non-ego  ;  and 
thus  I  demonstrate  by  the  a  posteriori  method  a  truth  that 
is  instinctive,  or  a  priori,  or  prior  to  all  reflection:  the 
existence  of  the  non-ego  is  the  cause  of  the  sensible  per- 
ception in  me.i 

Does  this  argument  refute  scepticism  ?  To  tell  the 
truth,  it  only  half  refutes  it,  and  our  jihilosopher  has  no 

^  Unwersalis  pliilos.  sive  metaphys.,  Part  I.,  1,  c.  3. 


TOMMASO  CAMPANELLA  293 

thought  of  claiming  the  victory.  Indeed,  it  does  not  neces- 
sarily follow  that  because  the  senses  are  veridical  in  show- 
ing us  objects,  they  show  us  the  latter  as  they  are.  The 
agreement  which,  dogmatism  assumes,  exists  between  our 
mode  of  conceiving  things  and  their  mode  of  being,  is, 
accorcUng  to  Campanella,  a  consequence  of  the  analogy  of 
beings,  and  tliis,  in  turn,  is  the  consequence  of  an  indemon- 
strable truth  :  their  unitary  origin.  Besides,  he  will  not 
grant  that  the  human  mind  has  an  absolute  knowledge  of 
things.  Our  knowledge  may  be  correct  without  ever  being- 
complete.  Compared  with  God's  knowledge,  our  knowledge 
is  insignificant  and  as  nothing.  We  should  know  things 
as  they  are,  if  knowledge  were  a  pure  act  (if  to  perceive 
were  to  create).  In  order  to  know  the  things  in  them- 
selves, or  absolutely,  we  sliould  have  to  be  the  absolute 
as  such,  i.  e.,  the  Creator  himself.  But  though  absolute 
knowledge  is  an  ideal  which  man  cannot  realize,  —  an  evi- 
dent proof  that  this  world  is  not  his  real  home,  —  the 
thinker  ought  to  engage  in  metaphysical  research. 

Considering  its  subject-matter,  universal  philosophy  or 
metaphysics  is  the  science  of  the  principles  or  fii'st  condi- 
tions of  existence  {principia,  proprincipia,  prwialitates 
essendi).  Considering  its  sources,  means,  and  methods,  it 
is  the  science  of  reason,  and  more  certain  and  authoritative 
than  experimental  science. 

To  exist  means  to  proceed  from  a  principle  and  to  re- 
turn to  it.^  What  is  the  j)rinciple,  or  rather,  what  are 
these  principles?  for  an  abstract  unity  is  barren.  In  other 
words:  Wliat  is  essential  to  a  being's  existence?  An- 
swer: (1)  That  this  being  Z>e  a 5/c  to  exist.  (2)  That  tlici-e 
be  in  natuic  an  Idea  of  wliicli  this  being  is  tlic  realization 
(for  without  knowledge  nature  would  never  })roduce  any- 
thing).    (•')  'ilial  llicn;  be  a  tcndcncij^^  or  desire  for  realiz- 

*  Univ.  phil.  sire  me.tnphys.,  P.  T.,  2,  c.  1. 

2  By  thus  categorically  affiniiiiig  the  will  as  tho  principium  essendi, 


294  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

ingit.  Power  (]>osse,  potcstas^  pote7itia  essendi),  knowledge 
(cognoscere,  sapicntia)^  and  will  {telle,  amor  essendi),  — such 
are  the  principles  of  relative  being.  The  sum  of  these 
principles,  or  rather,  the  su^jreme  unity  ^^4iich  contains 
them,  is  God.  God  is  absolute  power,  absolute  knowl- 
edge, and  absolute  will  or  love.  The  created  beings,  too, 
have  power,  perception,  and  will,  corresponding  to  their 
propinquity  to  the  source  of  things.  The  universe  is  a 
hierarchy  comprising  the  mental,  angelic,  or  metaphysical 
world  (angels,  dominations,  world-soul,  immortal  souls), 
the  eternal  or  mathematical  world,  and  the  temporal  or 
corporeal  world.  All  these  worlds,  even  the  corporeal 
world  itself,  participate  in  the  absolute,  and  reproduce  its 
three  essential  elements :  power,  knowledge,  and  will.  So 
true  is  this  that  even  inert  nature  is  not  dead ;  nay,  feel- 
ing, intelligence,  and  will  exist,  in  different  degrees,  in  all 
beings,  not  even  excepting  inorganic  matter.^ 

Ever}^  being  proceeds  from  the  absolute  Being,  and 
strives  to  return  thither  as  to  its  principle.  In  this  sense 
all  finite  beings  whatsoever  love  God,  all  are  religious,  all 
strive  to  live  the  infinite  life  of  the  Creator,  all  have  a 
horror  of  non-being,  and  in  so  far  as  all  bear  within  them- 
selves non-being  as  well  as  being,  all  love  God  more  than 
themselves.  Religion  is  a  universal  phenomenon  and  has 
its  source  in  the  dependence  of  all  things  on  the  absolute 
Being.  Religious  science  or  theology  is  so  much  higher 
than  philosophy,  as  God  is  greater  than  man.'^ 

In  spite  of  these  concessions  to  Catholicism,  in  spite  of 
his  Atlieisvius  iriumphatus,  and  his  cbeam  of  a  universal 
monarchy  for   the   Holy  Father,  Campanella's  attempted 

Campanella  differs  both  from  the  materialists  and  the  pure  idealists. 
No  one  before  Leibniz  more  clearly  conceived  the  fundamental  cou- 
ception  of  concrete  spiritualism. 

1  Univ.  phil,  P.  I.,  2,  c.  5  f£. 

2  Id..  lU.,  16,  1-7. 


TRAXCIS  BACON  295 

reforms  were  suspected  by  the  Church,  and  miscarried. 
Philosophy  could  not  hope  to  make  any  advance  in  Italy ; 
henceforth  she  takes  up  her  abode  in  countries  enlightened 
or  emancipated  by  the  religious  reformation :  in  England 
and  on  both  banks  of  the  Rhine.^ 

§  51.     Francis  Bacon 

In  England  the  philosophical  reform  receives  the  impress 
of  the  Anglo-Saxon  character,  and  takes  quite  a  different 
turn  from  the  Italian  movement.  The  sober  and  positive 
Eupflish  mind  distrusts  the  traditions  of  Scholasticism  as 
well  as  the  hasty  deductions  of  independent  metaphysics. 
It  prefers  the  slow  and  gradual  ascent  along  the  path  of 
experience  to  Italian  speculation,  which  quickly  reaches 
the  summit,  and  then,  unable  to  maintain  itself,  becomes 
discouraged  and  falls  back  into  scepticism.  It  is  impressed 
with  the  fact  that  the  School  and  its  methods  had  no  share 
in  the  recent  progress  of  the  sciences ;  that  these  intellec- 
tual conquests  were  made  outside  of  the  School,  nay,  in 
spite  of  it.  The  sciences  owe  their  success  neither  to 
Aristotle  nor  to  any  other  traditional  authority,  but  to  the 
direct  contemplation  of  nature  and  the  immediate  influence 
of  common-sense  and  reality.  True,  the  bold  investiga- 
tors of  science  reasoned  no  less  skilfully  than  the  logi- 
cians of  the  School,  l»ut  their  reasonings  were  based  on  the 

1  The  most  di.-itiiiguislied  among  the  Italian  philosophers  of  the 
seventeenth  and  eighteenth  centuries  is  Giovanni  Battista  Yico,  who 
died  in  1741.  He  is  noted  foi'  his  Scienza  nunva  (Naples,  17'25),  one 
of  the  first  attempts  a^  a  pjiilosophy  of  history.  The  attempt  lias 
Ijecn  made  by  able  modern  thinkers  like  (Jalhipi,  Rosmini,  Giol)erti, 
Mamiani,  Ferrari,  etc.  (>j  71),  to  restore  to  Italy  the  pliilosopliical 
prestige  enjoyed  by  that  country  during  the  period  of  the  Renaissance 
(see  Rajihael  Mariano,  La  philosophie  contemporaine  en  Italie,  Paris, 
1808).  [On  Vico  see  l^rofessor  Flint's  book  in  Blackwood's  Phil. 
Classics.  —  Ti!.] 


296  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

observation  of  facts.  Conversely,  when  they  started  from 
an  a  jri'iori  conception,  or  hypothesis,  they  verified  it  by 
experience,  as  Columbus  did,  and  refused  to  recognize  its 
truth  until  it  had  received  this  indispensable  sanction. 
Thus  we  have,  on  the  one  hand,  an  utterly  powerless  and 
barren  official  philosophy ;  on  the  other,  a  surprising  ad- 
vance in  the  positive  sciences.  The  conclusion  which 
forced  itself  upon  English  common-sense  was  the  necessity 
of  abandoning  a  priori  speculation  and  the  abused  syllo- 
gism in  favor  of  observation  and  induction. 

This  conviction,  wdiich  had  been  expressed  by  Roger 
Bacon  as  early  as  the  tliirteenth  century,  is  proclaimed  in 
the  writings  of  his  namesake  FiiAXCis  Bacox,  Baron  of 
Verulam,  Lord  Chancellor  of  England  (1561-162G):  De 
dicjnitate  et  augmentis  scientiarum  ;'^  Novum  organum  scien- 
tiarum^  etc.^ 

^  Appeared  in  English,  1605. 

2  First  published  nnder  the  title  Cogitata  et  visa  in  1612. 

3  Complete  Works,  [ed.  William  Rawley,  Amsterdam,  1663] ;  ed. 
Montague,  London,  1825-34;  H.  G.  Bohn-,  London,  1846;  ed.  Ellis, 
Spedding,  and  Heath,  London,  1857-50,  completed  by  J.  Spedding; 
The  Letters  and  Life  of  Francis  Bacon,  including  all  his  occasional 
works,  newly  collected,  revised,  and  set  out  in  chronological  order,  tciih  a 
commentary  biographical  and  historical,  London,  1862-72;  [also  a  briefer 
Account  of  the  Life  and  Times  of  Francis  Bacon,  by  J.  Spedding, 
2  vols.,  London,  1879] ;  Bacon's  works,  tr.  into  French  by  Lasalle, 
15  vols.,  8vo,  Paris,  1800-1803;  and  by  Riaux  (CEuvres  philosophiques 
de  F.  Bacon,  in  the  Charpentier  collection,  2  vols.,  12mo,  1812).  See 
Ch.  de  Remusat,  Bacoji,  sa  vie,  son  temps,  sa  philosophic  et  son  influence 
jiisqu'a  710S  jours,  2d  ed.,  Paris,  1858 ;  Kuno  Fischer,  Fra7icis  Bacon 
und  seine  Nachfolger.  Entivickelungsgeschichte  der  Erfahrungsphiloso- 
phie,  Leipsic,  1856  ;  2d  ed.,  completely  revised,  1875 ;  [Engl,  trans,  by 
J.  Oxenford,  London,  1857];  Chaignet  et  Sedail,  De  I'infnence  des 
travaux  de  Bacon  et  de  Descartes  sur  la  marche  de  Vesprit  humain,  Bor- 
deaux, 1865 ;  [Th.  Fowler,  Bacon  (English  Philosophers^  Series),  Lon- 
don, 1881  ;  J.  Xichol,  Bacon  (Blackwood's  Philosophical  Classics), 
2  vols.,  Edinburgh,  1888-89 ;  Heussler,  Francis  Baco  und  seine 
geschichtliche  Stellung,  Breslau,  1889.     Concerning  Bacon's  predeces- 


FRANCIS  BACON  297 

The  problem  is,  to  begin  the  Avhole  labor  of  the  mind 
again,  to  raise  science  upon  an  absolutely  new  basis  {instau- 
ratio  magna).  If  we  would  ascertain  the  hidden  nature 
of  things,  we  must  not  look  for  it  in  books,  in  the  authori- 
ties of  the  School,  in  preconceived  notions  and  a  priori 
speculations.  Above  all,  we  must  give  up  imitating  the 
ancients,  whose  influence  has  retarded  the  progress  of 
knowledge.  With  the  exception  of  Democritus  and  a 
few  positivists,  the  Greek  philosophers  observed  but  little 
and  superficially.  Scholasticism  followed  in  the  footsteps 
of  antiquit3%  It  seems  as  though  the  Schoolmen  had  lost 
their  sense  of  the  real.  Our  knowledge  is  full  of  preju- 
dices. We  have  our  wliims,  our  preferences,  our  idols 
{idola  t  rib  us,  fori,  spccus,  theatri),  and  we  project  them 
into  nature.  Because  the  circle  is  a  regular  line  and 
affords  us  pleasure,  we  infer  that  the  planetary  orbits  are 
perfect  circles.  We  do  not  observe  at  all,  or  we  observe 
but  poorl3%  We  infer  that  because  persons  have  escaped 
a  great  misfortune  five  times,  some  sujjcrnatural  agencies 
have  been  at  work ;  and  we  fail  to  take  account  of  the 
equally  numerous  cases  when  they  did  not  escape.  One 
may  truly  say  Avith  the  j^hilosoplier  who  was  shown,  in 
a  temple,  the  votive  tablets  suspended  by  such  as  had 
escaped  the  peril  of  shipwreck :  "  But  where  are  tlie  por- 
traits of  those  who  have  perished  in  sj)ite  of  tlieir  vows  ?  " 
We  assume  final  causes,  and  apply  them  to  science,  thereby 
carrying  into  nature  wliat  exists  only  in  our  imagination. 
Ijistead  of  understanding  things,  we  dispute  al)out  words, 
which  each  man  interprets  to  suit  himself.  We  continu- 
ally confuse  the  objects  of  science  with  those  of  religion,  — 
a  procedure  wliich  results  in  a  superstitious  i)hilosophy 
and  a  lieretical  theology.     "  Natural  j)hilosophy  is  not  yet 

sor.s,  Digliy  and  Temple,  see  J,  FrcndentJial,  Beilrdffe  zur  Gexchichte 
derengl.  Pkilos.,  A./,  d.  G.  d.  Ph.,  IV.,  pp.  450-477,  678-G03,  V., 
pp.  1-11.  — Tn.]. 


298  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

to  be  found  unadulterated,  but  is  impure  and  corrupted,  — 
by  logic  in  the  school  of  Aristotle  ;  by  natural  theology  in 
that  of  Plato ;  by  mathematics  in  the  second  school  of 
Plato  (that  of  Proclus  and  others),  which  ought  rather 
to  terminate  natiu-al  pliilosophy  than  to  generate  or 
create   it." 

Philosophy's  only  hope  in  this  chaos  of  opinions  and 
a  'priori  systems  is  to  break  entirely  with  Greek  and 
scholastic  traditions,  and  to  accept  the  inductive  method. 
What  traditional  philosophy  calls  induction  proceeds  by 
simple  enumeration,  leads  to  uncertain  conclusions,  and  is 
exposed  to  danger  from  one  contradictory  instance,  decid- 
ing generally  from  too  small  a  number  of  facts.  Genuine 
induction,  the  method  of  modern  science,  does  not  hurry 
on  rapidly  from  a  few  isolated  and  uncertain  phenomena 
to  the  most  general  axioms,  but  patiently  and  carefully 
studies  the  facts,  and  ascends  to  the  laws  continually  and 
gradually.  In  forming  our  general  law  "  we  must  examine 
and  try  whether  it  be  only  fitted  and  calculated  for  the 
particular  instances  from  which  it  is  deduced  or  whether 
it  be  more  extensive  and  general.  If  the  latter,  we  must 
observe  whether  it  confirm  its  own  extent  and  generality 
by  giving  surety,  as  it  were,  in  pointing  out  new  particu- 
lars, so  that  we  may  neither  stop  at  actual  discoveries,  nor 
with  careless  grasp  catch  at  shadows  and  abstract  forms."  ^ 

It  is  an  exaggeration  of  Bacon's  merit  to  regard  him  as 
tlie  creator  of  tlie  experimental  method  and  of  modern 
science.'^     On  the  contrar}^.  Bacon  was  the  product  of  the 

1  Novum  organum,  B.  I.,  §§  1,  2,  3,  14,  15,  ]9,  20,  31,  38-68,  71,  77, 
79,  82,  89,  9(3,  100  ff.  [Translations  taken  from  Devey's  ed.  of 
Bacon's  works  in  Bohn's  Library.  —  Tr.] 

2  His  scientific  merit  has  given  rise  to  an  interesting  controversy. 
See  Ad.  Lasson,  Ueher  Bacon's  ivissenscliaftUclie  Principien,  Berlin, 
IBGO;  Justus  v.  Liebig,  Ueher  F.  Bacon  von  Verulam  und  die  Methode 
der  Naturforschunfj,  Munich,  1863  ;  tr.  into  French  by  Tchihatchef, 
Paris,  1866.      Cf.  the   replies  of  Alb.  Desjardins,  De  jure  apud  Fr. 


FRANCIS  BACON  299 

scientific  revival  of  the  sixteenth  century,  and  his  mani 
festo  is  but  the  conclusion,  or  as  we  might  say  the  moral, 
which  English  common-sense  cbaws  from  the  scientific 
movement.  But  though  lie  cannot  be  said  to  have  origi- 
nated the  experimental  method,  we  must  at  least  concede 
to  liim  the  honor  of  having  raised  it  from  the  low  condi- 
tion to  wliich  scholastic  prejudice  had  consigned  it,  and  of 
having  insured  it  a  legal  existence,  so  to  say,  by  tlie  most 
eloquent  plea  ever  made  in  its  favor.  It  is  no  small  matter 
to  speak  out  what  many  think  and  no  one  dares  to  confess 
even  to  himself. 

Nay,  more.  Though  experimental  science  and  its  methods 
originated  long  before  the  time  of  the  great  chancellor. 
Bacon  is  none  the  less  the  founder  of  experimental  pJiilos- 
ophii,  the  father  of  modern  positivistic  philosophy,  in  so 
far  as  he  was  the  fu'st  to  affirm,  in  clear  and  eloquent 
words,  that  true  philosophy  and  science  have  common  in- 
terests, and  that  a  separate  metaphysics  is  futile.  An  out- 
spoken adversary  of  the  metaphysical  spirit,  he  expressly 
begs  his  readers  "  not  to  suppose  that  we  are  amljitious  of 
founding  any  philosophical  sect,  like  the  ancient  Greeks  or 
some  moderns  ;  for  neither  is  this  our  intention,  nor  do  ive 
think  that  peculiar  distract  opinions  on  nature  and  the  prin- 
ciples of  things  are  of  much  importance  to  men's  fortunes.''''  ^ 
Hence  he  not  only  opposes  Aristotle,  but  "  every  abstract 
opinion  on  nature,"  i.  e.,  all  metaphysics  not  based  on 
science. 

He  distinguishes,  moreover,  between  primary  philosopliii 
and  metaphysics.  I'rimary  pliilosophy  treats  of  the  notions 
and  general  propositions  common  to  the  special  sciences, 
viz.  (accoi-ding  to  Bacon's  strange  division,  "that  is  derived 

Baconem,  Paris,  1802;  of  Si.i,^\vart,  Ein  P/illo^opJi  und  fin  Nalurfori'rher 
uher  Bacon  {PreussiscJie  .TahrhUcher,  vol.  XIL,  August,  1H03  ;  vol.  XIU., 
January,  1801). 

1  Novum  orrjanum,  I.,  110. 


300  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

from  the  three  different  faculties  of  the  soul,"  memory, 
imagination,  and  reason)  •  histury^  which  includes  civil  Ids- 
tory  and  natural  history ;  poesy ;  and  philoso2)hy,  which 
he  divides  into  natural  theology,  natural  philosophy,  and 
human  philosophy.  Metaphysics  is  the  speculative  part  of 
natural  philosophy ;  it  deals  with  forms  (in  the  scholastic 
sense)  and  final  causes,  whereas  the  practical  part  of  natural 
philosophy,  or  physics  propei',  deals  only  with  efficient 
causes  and  substances.  But  Bacon  does  not  value  meta- 
physics very  highly,  and  it  sounds  like  irony  when,  after 
having  called  final  causes  barren  virgins,  he  assigns  them 
to  this  science.  As  regards  natural  theology,  its  sole  aim 
is  "  the  confutation  of  atheism."  Dogmas  are  objects  of 
faith,  and  not  of  knowledge.^ 

Tlris  method  of  distinguishing  between  science  and 
theology,  philosophy  and  faith,  reason  and  revelation,  is 
diametrically  oj^posed  to  the  ways  of  the  School.  The  old 
realistic  Scholasticism  identified  philosophy  with  theology. 
Bacon,  like  the  nominalists,  cannot  keep  them  far  enough 
apart.  He  justifies  himself  for  being  a  naturalist  in  science 
and  a  supernaturalist  in  theology  on  the  ground  of  this 
absolute  distinction,  and  a  number  of  English  thinkers 
follow  his  example.  But  the  distance  is  not  great  between 
the  exclusion  of  the  invisible  from  the  domain  of  science 
and  its  complete  denial.  Thomas  Hobbes,  a  friend  of 
Bacon,  teaches  a  form  of  materialism  which  his  political 
conservatism  scarcely  succeeds  in  disguising. 

§  52.     Thomas   Hobbes 

Thomas  Hobbes  (1588-1679),  the  son  of  a  clergyman, 
born  at  Malmesbury,  in  Wiltshire,  was  the  tutor  of  Lord 
Cavendish,  and,  owing  to  the  latter's  influence,  a  loyal 
friend  of  the  Stuarts.  Returning  to  his  country  after  an 
absence  of  thirteen  years  in  France,  he  devoted  himself 

1  De  dignitate  et  augm.  sc,  III. 


THOMAS  HOBBES  SOI 

exclusively  to  literary  labors.^  Hobbes's  fame  as  a  political 
writer  and  moralist  has  somewhat  obscured  his  merit  as  an 
ontologist  and  psychologist.  And  unjustly  so ;  for  he  is  the 
forerunner  of  materialism,  criticism,  and  modern  positivism. 
Philosophy  is  defined  by  Hobbes  as  the  reasoned  knowl- 
edge of  effects  from  causes,  and  causes  from  effects.^  To 
philosopliize  means  to  think  correctly;  now,  to  tliink  is 
"  to  compound  and  resolve  conceptions,"  i.  e.,  to  add  or 
subtract,  to  compute,  or  to  reckon ;  hence,  to  tliink  correctly 
means  to  combine  what  ought  to  be  combined,  and  to  sep- 
arate what  ought  to  be  separated.  Hence  it  follows  that 
philosophy  can  have  no  other  object  than  composahle  and 
decompoHible    things,    or    bodies.^      Pui-e    spirits,    angels, 

*  Elementa  philosophica  de  cice,  1642  and  1647;  Human  Nature^  or 
the  Fundamental  Elements  of  Policy,  London,  1650;  Leviathan  sire  de 
materia,  furma  et  pot  estate  civitatis  ecclesiasticce  el  civilis,  1651 ;  1670  (in 
Latin)  ;  De  corpore,  1655 ;  De  homine,  1658.  [First  Latin  edition  of 
his  collected  works  (published  by  himseH),  Amsterdam,  1668 ;  first 
English  edition  of  his  moral  and  political  works,  London,  1750J ; 
CEuvres  philosophiques  el  politiques  de  Th.  Hobhes,  etc.,  transl.  into 
French  by  one  of  his  friends,  2  vols.,  8vo,  Neuchatel,  1787  ;  His  com- 
plete works  (English  and  Latin),  collected  and  edited  by  J.  Moles- 
worth,  16  vols.,  8vo,  London,  1839-45  ;  [77/e  Elements  of  Lan\  Natural 
and  Political,  ed.,  with  preface  and  critical  notes,  by  F.  Tunnies.  To 
which  are  subjoined  selected  extracts  from  unprinted  MSS.  of  Th.  H., 
London,  1888 ;  Behemoth,  or  the  Long  Parliament,  ed.  for  the  first  time 
from  the  original  MSS.  by  F.  Tonnies,  London,  1889;  Siebzehn  Bricfe 
des  Th.  Hobbes,  etc.,  ed.  and  explained  by  F.  Tonnies,  A.  f  G.  d.  Ph., 
III.,  pp.  58-78,  192-232;  Hobbes's  Leviathan  in  Morleifs  Universal 
Library,  London.  On  Hobbes  see  :  F.  Tonnies's  four  articles  in  Vier- 
teljahresschrift  f.  wiss.  Ph.,  1879-1881  ;  same  author,  Leibniz  und  H., 
Philos.  Monatshefte,  1887,  pp.  557-57."}  ;  and  Th.  //.,  Deutsche  Rund- 
schau, 1889,  7  ;  G.  C.  Robertson,  Hobbes  {Philosophical  Classics),  Edin- 
burgh and  London,  1886;  G.  Lyon,  La  philosophic  de  Hobbes,  Paris, 
1893.  —  Tk.]. 

'  De  corjiore,  p.  2. 

•  Id.,  p.  6  :  Subjectum  philosophice  sive  materia  circa  quam  versatur 
est  corpus. 


30^  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

ghosts,  and  God,  cannot  be  thought.  They  are  objects  of 
faith,  and  belong  to  theoh^gy,  —  not  objects  of  science 
falling  within  the  scope  of  philosophy.  Corresponding  to 
the  division  of  bodies  into  natural  and  artificial,  moral  and 
social  bodies,  we  have :  iihilosophia  naturalis  (logic,  on- 
tology, mathematics,  physics)  and  philoso^phia  civilis 
(morals  and  politics).  Physics  and  moral  philosophy  are 
both  empirical  sciences,  having  boches  as  tlieir  objects, 
and  outer  and  inner  sense  as  their  respective  organs. 
Outside  of  the  science  of  observation,  there  is  no  real 
knowledge.^ 

From  these  premises  follows  a  wholly  materialistic  theory 
of  perception.  Inner  perception,  the  primary  condition 
and  basis  of  intellectual  life,  is  merely  our  feeling  of  brain 
action.  To  think,  therefore,  is  to  feel.  Knowledge  con- 
sists in  the  addition  of  sensations.  Sensation,  again,  is  but 
a  modification,  a  movement  taking  place  in  the  sensible 
body.  IMemory,  the  indispensable  auxiliary  of  tliought,  is 
simply  the  duration  of  sensation :  to  remember  is  to  feel 
what  one  has  felt.  Sensations  cannot  be  explained,  in  the 
manner  suggested  by  some  of  the  ancients,  as  effluences 
emanating  from  bodies,  and  similar  to  them.  These  si7n2i- 
lacra  reruon,  or,  in  the  terminology  of  the  Schoolmen, 
sensihle  and  intelligible  species,  are,  according  to  Hobbes,  as 
bad  as  the  occult  qualities  and  other  hypotheses  of  the 
Middle  Ages.  Instead,  we  must  say :  The  simple  motion 
which  the  objects  produce  in  surrounding  matter  is  com- 
municated to  the  brain  by  the  mediation  of  the  nerves. 

Hobbes  here  states  a  truth  already  known  to  Democri- 
tus,  Protagoras,  and  Aristippus  :  the  highly  important  truth 
of  the  wholly  subjective  character  of  perception.  What 
we  perceive  —  light,  for  example  —  is  never  an  external 
object,  but  a  motion,  a  modification  taking  place  in  the 

^  De  corpore. 


THOMAS  HOBBES  303 

cerebral  substance.^  AVe  need  no  further  proof  of  this 
than  the  fact  that  light  is  perceived  when  the  eye  receives 
a  more  or  less  powerful  blow ;  the  sensation  is  merely  the 
effect  of  the  excitement  produced  in  the  optic  nerve.  And 
what  holds  for  light  in  general  may  be  said  of .  each  par- 
ticular color,  which  is  but  a  modification  of  light.  The 
senses  therefore  deceive  us  in  so  far  as  they  make  us  be- 
lieve that  sound,  light,  and  colors  exist  outside  of  us.  The 
objectivity  of  the  phenomenon  is  an  illusion.  The  qualities 
of  tilings  are  accidents  of  our  o^^'n  being,  and  there  is  noth- 
ing objective  except  the  motion  of  bodies,  which  arouses 
these  accidents  in  us.  Hobbes  reasons  as  Berkeley  after- 
wards reasoned ;  but  the  latter  carries  out  liis  argument  to 
the  very  end;  proceeding  from  sensuaKstic  premises,  he 
finally  denies  the  existence  of  bodies,  and  culminates  in 
subjective  idealism.  Hobbes  only  goes  half  way :  the  reality 
of  matter  is,  in  his  opinion,  an  unimpeachable  dogma.^ 

Soul  or  spirit  he  defines  sometimes  as  brain  action,  some- 
times as  nervous  substance.  By  spirit,  he  says,  I  under- 
stand a  physical  body  refined  enough  to  escape  the  obser- 
vation of  the  senses.  An  incorporeal  spirit  does  not  exist.^ 
The  Bible  itself  make  no  mention  of  such  a  being.  Ani- 
mals and  man  differ  in  degree  only ;  both  being  corporeal 
beings.  We  possess  no  real  advantage  over  brutes  except 
speech.  We  are  no  more  endowed  with  free-will  than  the 
lower  beings.  Like  them,  we  are  governed  by  irresistible 
appetites.  Reason  without  passion,  moral  principles  with- 
out a  material  attraction,  exert  no  influence  on  the  human 
will ;  it  is  impelled  by  the  expectations  of  the  imagination, 
the  passions,  and  tlie  emotions:  love,  hatred,  fear,  and 
hope.     "A  voluntary  action  is  that  wliicli  proceedetli  from 

1  ITnman  Nature,  p.  0  :  The  image  or  colour  is  hut  an  apparition  unto 
us  of  the  motion,  atjilalion,  or  alteration  which  the  ohjert  works  in  the 
brain  or  spirits,  or  some  internal  substance  of  the  head. 

2  r<I.,  \>i>.  9  f.  »  Id.,  i'\>.  71  f. 


304  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

the  will;"  but  the  volition  itself  is  not  voluntary;  it  is 
not  our  deed ;  we  are  not  the  masters  of  it.  Every  act  has 
its  sufticient  reason.  According  to  the  indeterminists,  a 
free  or  voluntary  act  is  one  which,  though  there  be  a  suf- 
ficient reason  for  its  performance,  is  not  necessary.  The 
absui-dity  of  this  definition  is  obvious.  If  an  occurrence  or 
an  act  does  not  happen,  it  is  because  there  is  no  sufficient 
reason  for  its  happening.  Sufficient  reason  is  synonymous 
with  necessity.  Man,  like  all  creatures,  is  subject  to  the 
law  of  necessity,  to  fate,  or,  if  we  choose,  to  the  will  of 
God.  Good  and  evil  are  relative  ideas.  The  former  is 
identical  with  the  agreeable  ;  the  latter,  with  the  disagree- 
able. Interest  is  the  supreme  judge  in  morals  as  in  every- 
thing else.  Absolute  good,  absolute  evil,  absolute  justice, 
absolute  morality,  are  so  many  cliimeras,  gratuitous  inven- 
tions of  the  theological  mind  and  metaphysics.^ 

Hobbes's  system  of  politics  is  consistent  with  these  onto- 
logical  premises.  Liberty  he  considers  as  impossible  in 
politics  as  in  metaphysics  and  ethics.  In  the  State  as  well 
as  in  nature  might  makes  right.  The  natural  state  of 
man  consists  in  the  helium  omnium  contra  omnes.  The 
State  is  the  indispensable  means  of  putting  an  end  to  this 
conflict.  It  protects  the  life  and  property  of  individuals  at 
the  cost  of  a  passive  and  absolute  obedience  on  their  part. 
What  it  commands  is  good ;  what  it  proliibits  is  bad.  Its 
will  is  the  supreme  law.^ 

We  shall  not  dwell  on  this  absolutistic  theory,  the  logi- 
cal consequence  of  materialism.  Let  us  note  in  what  two 
important  respects  Thomas  Hobbes  differs  from  Bacon. 
First,  Hobbes  teaches  a  system  of  metaphj^sics,  —  the 
materialistic  metaphysics ;  secondly,  his  definition  of  phi- 
losophy places  a  higher  value  on  the  syllogism  than  the 
author  of  the  Novum  organum  sets  upon  it.     The  latter 

1  Treat,  of  Liberty  and  Necessity,  London,  1656. 

2  De  cive,  6,  19 ;  12,  8  ;  Leviathan,  c.  17. 


DESCARTES  305 

had,  in  proclaiming  induction  as  the  universal  method, 
overlooked  (1)  the  part  deduction  plays  in  mathematics, 
and  (2)  the  part  played  by  the  mathematical  element  and 
a  priori  speculation  in  the  discoveries  of  the  fifteenth 
century.  Hence  Hobbes  occupies  a  position  between  pui's 
empiricism  and  Cartesian  rationalism. 

§  53.     Descartes 

RejSTE  des  Caetes,^  born  1596  at  La  Haye  in  Touraine, 
and  educated  by  the  Jesuits  of  La  Fleche,  spent  the  greater 
part  of  liis  life  abroad.  In  German}^  he  fought  as  a  lieu- 
tenant in  the  Imperial  army ;  in  Holland  he  pubHshed  liis 

1  JVorks  [Latin  ed.,  Amsterdam,  1650  ff ;  French,  Paris,  1701]  ; 
French  ed.  by  Victor  Cousin,  11  vols.,  Paris,  1824-26;  Philosophical 
Works  of  Descartes,  by  Garnier,  4  vols.,  Paris,  1835,  and  by  Jules 
Simon  in  the  Biblioiheque  Charpentier,  1  vol.  12mo,  1842 ;  Moral  and 
Philosophical  Works  of  Descartes,  by  Amadee  Prevost,  Paris,  1855 ; 
Unpublished  Works  of  Descartes,  by  Toucher  de  Careil,  I860;  \_Un- 
published  Letters,  by  E.  de  Bude,  Paris,  1808 ;  by  P.  Tannery,  A.  f.  G. 
Ph.,  vols.  lY.  and  v.;  F^ngl.  transl.  of  The  Method,  Meditations,  and 
Selections  from  the  Principles,  by  J.  Veitch,  10th  ed.,  Edinburgh  and 
London,  1890;  of  the  Meditations,  by  Lowndes,  London,  1878  ;  of 
Extracts  from  hi^  V/ritings,  by  H.  A.  P.  Torrey  (Series  of  Modern  Phi- 
losophers), Xew  York,  1892.  —  Tr.].  A.  Baillet,  La  vie  de  Mr.  des 
Cartes,  Paris,  1691 ;  Francisque  Bouillier,  Ilistoire  de  la  philosophie 
carte'sienne,  Paris,  1854,  3d  ed.,  1868  [a  hLstory  of  Cartesianism]; 
[C.  Schaarschmidt,  Descartes  und  Spinoza,  Bonn,  1850]  ;  J.  Millet, 
Histoir  de  Descartrs  avnnt  1637  suivie  de  Vanalyse  du  Discours  de  la 
methode  et  des  Essais  de  philosophie,  Paris,  1867;  Bertrand  de  Saint- 
Germain,  Descartes  considere  comme  phi/siolnrjiste  et  comme  medecin, 
Paris,  1870  ;  |"J.  P.  IVIahaffy,  Descartes  (Blackwood's  Philosophical 
C/a.Wc.s-),  Edinburgh  and  Philadelphia,  1881.  See  also:  M.  Ileiiize, 
Die  Sitlenlehre  des  Descartes,  Leipsic,  1872;  Grimm,  Descartes^  Lehre 
von  den  angehorenen  Ideen,  Jena,,  1873;  G.  Glogau,  Darlegung  it.  Kritik 
des  Grundgedankens  der  Cartesian.  Metaphysik,  Zlschr.  f  Ph.,  vol.  73, 
1878;  A.  Koch,  Die  Psychologic  Dtscartes\  Munich,  1881;  Natorp, 
Descartes'  Erkenntnissthmrie,  Marburg,  1882;  K.  Twardowski,  Idee 
und  Peripptinn  hei  Descartes,  Viciiiia.  1892.  —  'I'lt.]. 

20 


306  MODERN   PHILOSOi'IIY 

Philosophical  Essays^  comprising  the  Biscours  de  la  methode 
(1637),  the  Mcd'dationes  de  prima  'idiUusujihia  (164:1),  the 
Frincipia  philosophiae  (1644).  His  adiuirer  Queen  Clu'istina 
invited  him  to  Sweden,  where  he  died  1650,  the  same  year 
in  wliich  liis  TraitS  des  passions  de  I'dine  appeared  at  Amster- 
dam. Besides  the  above,  we  must  mention  the  foUowino' 
characteristic  works :  Le  monde  ou  traite  de  la  htmiere,  and 
the  Traite  de  rhomnie  ou  de  la  formation  du  foetus,  wliich 
were  published  after  the  death  of  the  author. 

In  order  to  understand  Descartes  the  philosopher,  we 
nnist  remember  that  he  wr,s  an  emulator  of  Gassendi, 
Galileo,  Pascal,  and  Newton,  the  successor  of  Viete,  and 
one  of  the  founders  of  analytical  geometry.  Descartes 
was  a  mathematician  above  everything  else  ;  a  geometrician 
with  a  taste  for  metaphysics  rather  than  a  philosopher  with 
a  leaning  for  geometry  and  algebra.  Indeed,  liis  philoso- 
phy simply  aims  to  be  a  generalization  of  mathematics ;  it 
is  his  ambition  to  apply  the  geometric  method  to  universal 
science,  to  make  it  the  method  of  metaphysics.  The  Dis- 
course  on  Method  does  not  leave  us  in  doubt  on  this  point : 
"Above  all,"  he  says,  "I  was  delighted  with  the  mathe- 
matics on  account  of  the  certainty  and  evidence  of  their 
demonstrations,  but  /  had  not  as  yet  found  ont  their  true 
iise,  and  although  I  supposed  that  they  were  of  service  only 
in  the  mechanic  arts,  I  was  surprised  that  upon  founda- 
tions so  solid  and  stable  no  loftier  structure  had  been 
raised."!  And  again:  "Those  long  chains  of  reasoning, 
quite  simple  and  easy,  which  geometers  are  wont  to  em2)loy 
in  the  accomplishment  of  their  most  difficult  demonstra- 
tions, led  me  to  think  that  everything  lohich  might  fall  under 
the  cognizance  of  the  human  mind  might  he  connected  together 
in  the  same  manner^  and  that,  provided  only  one  should 
take  care  not  to  receive  anything  as  true  wliich  was  not  so, 
and  if  one  were  always  careful  to  preserve  the  order  neces- 

^  Discours  de  la  inelhode  (Torrey's  translation),  Part  I.,  §  10. 


DESCARTES  807 

saiy  for  deducing  one  truth  from  another,  there  "would  be 
none  so  remote  at  which  he  might  not  at  last  arrive,  nor 
so  concealed  which  he  might  not  discover."  ^ 

These  passages  and  many  others  make  it  quite  plain  that 
the  Cartesian  method  consists  in  mathematical  deduction 
generalized.  How,  then,  did  Descartes  come  to  be  called 
the  inventor  of  inner  observation  or  the  psychological 
method  ?  Descartes  needed  first  jjrinciples  from  which  to 
proceed  in  his  deductions,  and  self-observation  furnished 
him  with  such  principles,  from  wliicli  he  deduced  all  the 
rest  more  (jcovietrico.  Hence,  those  who  regard  Descartes 
as  the  author  of  the  psychological  method  are  right,  in  so 
far  as  observation  is  one  of  the  phases  and  the  preparatory 
stage,  as  it  were,  in  the  Cartesian  method ;  l)ut  they  err  in 
so  far  as  they  regard  it  as  more  than  an  introduction,  or 
kind  of  provisional  scaffolding  for  deductive  reasoning, 
which  undoubtedly  constitutes  the  soul  of  the  Cartesianism 
of  Descartes.  Let  us  add  that  Descartes  not  only  uses 
inner  observation ;  he  is  a  learned  anatomist  and  physiolo- 
gist (so  far  as  that  was  possible  in  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury), and  as  such  appreciates  the  great  value  of  experience. 
He  loves  to  study  the  great  hook  of  the  world ;  2  and  for  any 
one  to  oppose  him  to  Bacon  on  this  point  is  sheer  ignor- 
ance. The  most  recent  historians  of  Cartesianism  justly 
insist  that  it  is  impossible  to  separate  Descartes  the  pliil- 
osopher  from  Descartes  tlie  scientist;  and  French  positi- 
vism, too,  is  right  in  reckoning  among  its  ancestors  a  man 
Avho  tried  to  make  philosophy  an  exact  science.  Descartes's 
failing,  a  failing  A\hich  lie  shares  Avith  very  many  metaphy- 
Bicians,  and  wliich  is  the  result  of  his  scholastic  training, 
consists  in  liis  impatient  desire  to  conclude  and  sj'stema- 
tize ;  which  hinders  liim  from  distinguishing  sufficiently 
between  the  method  of  scientific  investigation  and  the 
method  of  exposition. 

*  Discows  fie  In  melhoih:  (Torrey's  (ruiislaticjii),  Tart  11.,  §  11. 
2  Id.,  Part  I.,  §  15. 


308  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

The  application  of  the  geometrical  method  to  metaphy- 
sics for  the  purpose  of  making  it  an  exact  science :  that 
is  the  leading  thought  in  Cartesianisra.  The  geometer 
starts  out  from  a  small  number  of  axioms  and  definitions, 
and,  by  means  of  deduction,  reaches  wonderful  results. 
Descartes  follows  this  method.  He  needs,  first,  axioms 
and  definitions ;  the  first  part  of  our  exposition  will  show 
us  how  inner  observation,  aided  by  reasoning,  supplies 
them.  From  these  definitions  he  then  deduces  a  series  of 
consequences,  wliicli  will  form  the  subject  of  the  second 
part. 

1.  Observing  that  all  he  knows  or  thinks  he  knows  he 
has  received  througli  the  senses  and  from  tradition,  and 
that  the  senses  often  deceive  us,  Descartes  resolves  to 
doubt  everytlung :  to  traditional  science  he  opposes  a  radi- 
cal doubt.  But  he  does  not  doubt  merely  for  the  sake  of 
doubting.  Ilis  scepticism,  though  radical,  is  provisional, 
and  has  for  its  object  the  creation  of  certain  and  self- 
acquired  knowledge.  He  differs  both  from  the  j^hilosophers 
of  the  Church  and  the  sceptics  properly  so-called.  The 
Schoolmen  had  said :  Credo  ut  intclUgam  ;  he  however  says : 
Duhito  ut  intelligam.  Pyrrho,  Sextus,  and  Montaigne  had 
doubted  before  him,  but  they  did  not  succeed  in  mastering 
their  doubts ;  they  were  tired  of  seeking  for  the  truth,  and 
so  made  doubt  an  end  in  itself,  a  definitive  and  hopeless 
system.  For  Descartes  doubt  is  but  a  means  which  he 
hastens  to  abandon  as  soon  as  he  has  discovered  a  certain, 
primary  truth.  This,  rather  than  his  scepticism,  the  fact, 
namely,  that  he  adds  to  his  negation  a  positive  and  emi- 
nently fruitful  principle,  makes  him  the  father  of  modern 
rationalistic  philosophy. 

What  is  this  principle,  and  how  does  Descartes  discover 
it?  His  very  doubts  reveal  it  to  him.  I  doubt,  says  he: 
that  is  absolutely  certain.  Now,  to  doubt  is  to  think. 
Hence  it  is  certain  that  I  think.     To  think  is  to  exist. 


DESCARTES  309 

Hence  it  is  certain  that  I  exist.  Cogito^  ergo  sum}  Though 
Descartes  derives  the  substance  of  his  argument  from  St. 
Augustine,  he  formuhites  it  differently ;  he  presents  it  in 
such  an  attractive  and  precise  form  as  to  impress  the  mind 
and  to  gain  its  immediate  approval.  To  the  classical  for- 
mula, cogito  ergo  sum,  Cartesian  philosophy  owes  a  large 
share  of  its  success.  Descartes's  motto  is  not,  however,  an 
inference,  and  he  does  not  wish  us  to  regard  it  as  such. 
As  an  inference  it  would  be  a  i^etitio  lyrincvpii ;  for  the  con- 
clusion is  really  identical  with  the  major  premise.  It  is 
a  simple  analytical  judgment,  a  self-evident  proposition. 

Here  then  we  have  a  certain  basis,  on  which  to  con- 
struct a  system  of  no  less  certainty  than  its  fundamental 
principle ;  for  it  is  evident  that  all  the  propositions  follow- 
ing necessarily  from  an  axiom  must  be  as  true  as  the  axiom 
itself. 

Thus  far,  then,  I  merely  know  that  I  exist.  I  can- 
not advance  and  extend  the  circle  of  my  knowledge  without 
exercising  the  greatest  care ;  I  must  remember  constantly 
tlLCit  self-evidence,  and  that  alone,  is  needed  to  make  me  cer- 
tain of  anything.  It  is  evident  that  I  think  and  that  I 
exist,  but  it  is  not  e^ddent  that  the  object  of  my  thought 
exists  outside  of  me,  for  the  nature  which  deceives  me  by 
making  me  believe  in  the  rising  and  the  setting  of  the  sun, 
may  also  delude  me  by  making  me  assume  the  reality  of 
sensible  tilings.  My  ideas  may  be  merely  the  product  of 
my  own  imagination.  Heat,  cold,  and  even  disease,  may  be 
hallucinations.  We  sliould  have  to  abandon  all  attempts 
to  prove  the  contrary,  we  should  forever  remain  confined 
within  the  narrow  circle  of  certitude  described  by  the  sum 
quia  cogito,  and  doubt  every^thing  else,  did  we  not  find 
among  our  ideas  one  whose  foreign  origin  is  self-evident- 
the  idea  of  God  or  of  the  infinite  and  perfect  Being.^ 

1  Discours  ilc  la  nit'thnde,  IV.     Cf.  the  se<;oii(l  MalUation. 
*  Meditulions,  III.,  V. 


310  MODERN   PHILOSOPHY 

Tliis  idea  cannot  be  the  product  of  my  thought,  for  my 
thought  is  finite,  limited,  and  imperfect,  and  it  is  self- 
evident  that  a  finite  cause  cannot  produce  an  infinite  effect. 
Shall  we  say  that  the  idea  of  the  infinite  is  purely  nega- 
tive ?  On  the  contrary,  it  is  the  most  positive  idea  of  all, 
the  one  which  precedes  all  the  others,  and  without  which  the 
idea  of  the  finite  Avould  not  be  possible.  Shall  we  raise 
the  objection  that  the  human  ego,  though  achudly  imper- 
fect, may  be  fotentially  infinite,  because  it  strives  for  per- 
fection, and  can  therefore  produce  the  idea  of  God  ?  But 
the  idea  of  God  is  not  the  idea  of  a  potentially-perfect 
being,  it  is  the  idea  of  the  actually-infinite  being.  We  do 
not  attribute  to  God  an  acquired  perfection.  Our  knowl- 
edge increases  and  grows  more  perfect  little  by  little, 
perhaps  indefinitely;  but  nothing  can  be  added  to  God, 
the  eternally-absolute  and  perfect  being.  Hence,  if  the 
idea  of  God  cannot  come  from  us,  it  must  necessarily 
come  from  God,  and  God  necessarily  exists. 

Moreover,  the  existence  of  God  follows  from  the  very 
idea  of  the  perfect  being,  for  existence  is  an  essential 
element  of  perfection ;  without  it,  God  would  be  the  most 
imperfect  of  beings.  This  argument,  advanced  by  St. 
Anselmus,  apparently  makes  the  existence  of  God  depend 
on  our  idea  of  the  perfect  being.  Such,  however,  is  not 
Descartes's  meaning.  We  should  not  say,  God  exists 
because  my  mind  conceives  him ;  but,  My  reason  con- 
ceives God,  because  God  exists.  The  true  foundation  of 
our  faith  in  God  is  not  our  own  conception  of  him,  —  that 
would  be  a  suljjective  and  weak  basis,  —  but  God  himself, 
who  reveals  himself  to  us  in  the  innate  idea  of  infinity. 
The  objection  that  the  existence  of  a  mountain  or  a  valley, 
for  example,  does  not  follow  from  the  intimate  and  neces- 
sary correlation  existing  between  the  idea  of  a  mountain 
and  the  idea  of  a  valley,  is  a  sophism.  From  the  fact 
that  I   cannot  conceive  a  mountain  without  a  valley,  nor 


DESCARTES  311 

a  valley  without  a  mountain,  it  does  not  follow  that  a 
mountain  or  a  valley  exists,  but  that  the  two  ideas  are  in- 
separable from  each  other.  Similarly,  from  the  fact  that  I 
cannot  conceive  God  except  as  existent,  it  follows  that  the 
idea  of  God  implies  the  existence  of  the  perfect  Being.i 

1  know,  then,  (1)  that  I  exist ;  and,  (2)  that  God  exists. 
The  certainty  of  God's  existence  is  a  matter  of  the  greatest 
importance ;  on  it  depends  all  truth,  all  certitude,  all  posi- 
tive knowledge.  Without  it  I  could  not  advance  beyond 
the  cogito^  ergo  sum  ;  I  should  know  myself  and  never  know 
the  not-me.  It  enables  me  to  destroy  the  barrier  erected 
by  doubt  between  thought  and  external  things.  It  teaches 
me  (3)  that  the  corporeal  ivorld  exists.  God,  and  God 
alone,  vouchsafes  the  reality  of  my  ideas ;  the  idea  of 
God  which  he  has  implanted  in  me  is  the  perpetual  refu- 
tation of  scepticism.  In  short,  as  long  as  I  leave  out  of 
account  the  idea  of  God,  I  may  suppose  that  the  sensible 
world  is  an  illusion  caused  by  some  evil  demon,  or  by  the 
nature  of  my  own  mind.  But  the  existence  of  God  as  the 
author  of  all  things  being  pj'oved,  it  becomes  evident  that 
my  instinctive  belief  in  the  existence  of  the  world  is  well 
founded;  for  I  receive  it  from  a  perfect  being,  that  is, 
from  a  being  incapable  of  deceiving  me.  Henceforth, 
doubt  is  impossible,  and  wliatever  trace  of  scepticism  I 
may  hav'e  retained  is  superseded  l)y  an  unshakable  conii- 
dence  in  reason.^ 

^  Iji  reality,  the  ontological  ai'guinent  is  no  iiioi'C  of  an  inference 
than  the  cogito,  ergo  sum.  It  is  an  axiom,  a  trutli  wliich  the  soul  per- 
ceives immediately  and  prior  to  all  reflection. 

2  Meditutinn,  V.,  8:  "  Uiit  after  I  have  recognized  the  existence  of 
a  God,  and  because  I  liave  at  the  same  time  recognized  the  fact 
that  all  things  depend  upon  him,  and  that  he  is  no  deceiver,  and  in 
consequence  of  that  I  have  judged  that  all  tliat  I  conceive  clearly 
and  distinctly  cannot  fail  to  be  true  ...  no  opjiosing  reason  can  be 
brought  against  me  which  should  make  nie  ever  call  it  in  question  ; 
and  thus  I  have  a  true  and  certain  knowledge  of  it.     And  this  same 


312  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

The  three  realities  whose  existence  has  been  joroved,  — 
God,  the  ego,  and  the  corporeal  world,  — ■  may  be  defined  as 
follows :  God  is  the  infinite  substance,  on  which  everything 
depends  and  whicli  itself  depends  on  nothing ;  the  soul  is 
a  substance  that  thinks  ;  ^  the  body  is  an  extended  sub- 
stance. By  "  substance  "  we  can  understand  nothing  else 
than  a  thing  which  so  exists  that  it  needs  no  other  thing 
in  order  to  exist.^ 

2.  Observation  and  reasoning  form  the  basis  of  the  Car- 
tesian system.  A  priori  deduction  completes  the  struc- 
ture. 

And  here  we  find,  at  the  very  outset,  a  syllogism  which 
contains  the  elements  of  the  Spinozistic  system.  If  sub- 
stance is  a  tiling  which  needs  no  other  thing  in  order  to 
exist,  it  follows  that  God  alone  is  a  substance  in  the  real 
sense  of  the  term.^  Now,  by  substance  we  can  conceive 
nothing  else  than  a  thing  which  so  exists  as  to  need  nothing 
except  itself  in  order  to  exist.  There  may  be  some  ob- 
scurity in  the  plu-ase :  ••'  to  need  nothing  except  itself ; "  for, 
strictly  speaking,  God  alone  is  such  a  heing^  and  no  created 

knowledge  extends  also  to  all  the  other  things  which  1  recollect 
having  formerly  demonstrated,  as  the  truths  of  geometry  and  others 
like  them ;  for  what  is  there  which  can  be  objected  to  oblige  me  to 
call  them  in  question  ?  Will  it  be  that  my  nature  is  such  that  I  am 
very  liable  to  be  mistaken?  But  I  know  already  that  I  cannot 
deceive  myself  in  judgments  the  reasons  for  which  I  clearly  perceive. 
Will  it  be  that  I  have  formerly  regarded  many  things  as  true  and 
certain  which  afterwards  I  have  discovered  to  be  false  ?  .  .  .  Will  it 
be  that  perhaps  I  am  asleep  ?  .  .  .  But  even  if  I  am  asleep,  all  that 
presents  itseK  to  my  mind  with  evidence  is  absolutely  true.  And  thus 
I  recognize  very  clearly  that  the  certainty  and  the  truth  of  all  knowl- 
edge depend  on  the  knowledge  alone  of  the  true  God  :  so  that  before 
I  knew  him  I  could  not  perfectly  know  anything  else.  And  now  that 
I  know  him,  I  have  the  means  of  acquiring  a  perfect  knowledge  of  an 
infinitude  of  things,  not  only  of  those  which  are  in  him,  but  also  of 
those  which  belong  to  corporeal  nature.  .  .  ." 

1  Principles,   I.,  9-12.  «  Id.,  I.,  51.  3  Jd. 


DESCARTES  313 

thing  can  exist  a  single  moment  without  being  sustained 
and  preserved  by  his  power.  Accordingly,  the  School  is 
rio-ht  in  saying  that  the  term  "  substance  "  does  not  apply 
to  God  and  the  creatures  uiiivocalUj}  Hence,  creatures 
are  not  substances  in  the  proper  sense.  Some  are  sub- 
stances as  compared  with  others ;  they  are  not  substances 
as  compared  with  God,  for  they  depend  on  liim. 

Descartes,  therefore,  understands  by  relative  and  finite 
sitbstance  a  thing  which  needs  nothing  but  God  in  order  to 
exist ;  by  mode,  that  which  cannot  exist  or  be  conceived 
without  sometliing  else  which  is  its  substance  ;  by  attribute, 
the  essential  quality  of  the  substance,  from  which  we  can- 
not abstract  without  at  the  same  time  destroying  the 
substance   itself. 

Minds  and  bodies  are  (relative)  substances.  Thouglit 
constitutes  the  attribute,  i.  e.,  the  essence  of  mind ;  ^  exten- 
sion, the  attribute,  i.  e.,  the  essence  of  body. 

From  the  fact  that  extension  constitutes  the  essence  of 
body,  it  follows :  (1)  That  there  can  be  no  extension  in 
the  universe  without  body,  i.e.,  no  empty  space;  nor 
bodies  without  extension,  i.  e.,  atoms ;  (2)  That  the  cor- 
poreal world  is  illimitable,  since  extension  cannot  be 
conceived  as  having  limits  (here  Descartes  contradicts 
Aristotle  and  agrees  with  Bruno)  ;  (3)  That  body  has, 
strictly  speaking,  no  centre,  that  its  form  is  naturally 
eccentric  and  its  motion  centrifugal;  for  the  centre  is  a 
mathematical  point,  and  the  mathematical  point,  inex- 
tended. 

The  properties  of  extension  are  divisibility,  figurability, 
and  mobility.     But  divisibility  is  merely  a  movement  of 

*  Principles,  I.,  51. 

'  Id.,  I.,  9  :  By  the  word  thought  I  understand  everything  that  so 
takes  place  in  us  that  we  of  ourselves  ijnmediatoly  perceive  it ;  hence, 
not  only  to  undrTstaud,  to  will,  to  imagine,  but  even  to  feel,  are  the 
same  as  to  think. 


314  MODERN  THILOSOrilY 

separation  and  of  union.     Hence,  the  properties  of  exten 
sion,  and  consequently  of  matter,  consist  in  motion. 

There  is  no  other  motion  than  motion  in  extension,  local 
motion  or  change  of  place. 

Furthermore,  motion  cannot  originate  in  the  bodies  them- 
selves :  they  cannot  be  said  to  viove  titemselves,  to  set  them- 
selves in  motion  and  to  persist  in  it  of  themselves ;  for 
bocUes  are  extended,  extended  only,  even  in  their  smallest 
parts,  and  absolutely  devoid  of  the  inner  principle,  the 
centre  of  action  and  impulsion  which  we  call  soul  or  ego. 
They  are  entirely  passive ;  they  do  not  7]iove  themselves  at 
all,  but  are  moved  by  external  causes.  We  cannot  even  say 
that  they  are  heavy,  if  we  understand  by  weight  a  tendency 
of  the  body  to  fall  towards  the  centre  of  the  earth,  i.  e.,  a 
kind  of  spontaneous  activity  in  matter.  The  material 
world  knows  no  other  law  than  the  law  of  necessity.  The 
particles  of  matter,  to  which  the  Creator  originally  imparted 
rectilinear  motion,  are  distributed  in  vortices  {tourhillons), 
forming  stars,  then  planets,  which  are  extinguished  stars, 
and  filially  other  heavenly  bodies.  The  science  of  the 
world  is  a  problem  of  mechanics.  The  material  world 
is  a  machine,  an  indefinite  —  not  infinite  —  chain  of  move- 
ments, the  origin  of  which  is  in  God.^ 

However,  we  must  not  mix  theology  with  our  interpre- 
tation of  nature ;  and  physics  should  entirely  abandon  the 
search  for  final  causes,  which  has  hitherto  impeded  the 
progress  of  this  science.^ 

Minds  are  diametrically  opposed  to  bodies :  i.  e.,  they  are 
essentially  active  and  free ;  and  just  as  there  is  nothing 
inextended  in  body,  mind  contains  nothing  that  is  not 
thought,  inextended,  and  immaterial.  Body  is  everything 
that  mind  is  not ;  mind  is  the  absolute  negation  of  every- 
thing that  body  is.  The  two  substances  entirely  exclude 
each  other,  they  are  entirely  opposed  to  each  other :  body 
'  Principles,  II.,  III.  2  /,/.,  j.,  28. 


DESCARTES  315 

is  absolutely  soulless ;  the  soul,  absolutely  immaterial  (dual- 
ism of  substances,  dualistic  spiritualism). ^ 

Like  soul  and  body,  the  science  of  soul  and  the  science 
of  body  have  nothing  in  common.  Physics  should  confine 
itself  wholly  to  mechanical  interpretation,  while  the  soul 
shoidd  be  explained  only  in  terms  of  itself. 

Although  sensation  seems  to  be  an  action  of  the  body 
upon  the  soul,  voluntary  motion,  an  action  of  the  soul  upon 
the  body,  tliis  is  not  actually  the  case  ;  for  there  can  be  no 
reciprocal  action  between  substances  whose  attributes  ex- 
clude each  other.  Man  is  a  composite  being,  a  combina- 
tion of  soul  and  body.  The  soul  derives  its  sensible  ideas 
from  its  own  nature  on  occasion  of  the  corresponding  ex- 
citations ;  the  body,  on  the  other  hand,  is  an  automaton, 
whose  movements  are  occasioned  by  the  volitions  of  the 
soul.  The  body  and  the  soul  lead  separate  lives ;  the  body  is 
subject  to  necessity,  the  soul  endowed  with  free-will ;  being 
independent  of  the  body,  it  survives  its  destruction.  The 
two  parts  composing  the  human  being  are  so  exclusive  as 
to  make  a  real  union  between  sold  and  hodij  ahsohdely  impos- 
sible. "  Tliose  who  never  pliilosophize,"  Descartes  ^  writes  to 
Princess  Elizabeth,  "  and  employ  their  senses  only,  do  not 
douljt  that  the  soul  moves  the  body,  and  that  the  body  acts 
upon  tlie  soul.  But  they  regard  them  both  as  one  and  the 
same  thing,  i.  e.,  they  conceive  them  to  be  united ;  for  to 

1  Medilntion,  VT.  Here  we  notice  a  striking  difference  between 
Descartes  and  Leibniz,  between  dualistic  spiritualism  and  concrete 
spiritualism.  Descartes  goes  so  far  as  to  deny  force  {tendance)  to 
body,  while  Leibniz  attributes  to  it  (i.  e.,  to  the  monads  constituting 
it)  not  only  force,  but  also  perception :  it  contains  the  idea  whicli  it 
desires  to  realize,  without,  however,  being  conscious  of  it.  The  char- 
acteristic trait  of  mind  as  compared  with  bfxly  is  not  perception  but 
apperception,  not  the  tendency  itself,  but  the  consciousness  of  the  goal 
aimed  at. 

'^  A  Madame  Pjizrdieth,  Princexse  Palatine  (Lf'tlcr  XIX.,  Vol.  TIL, 
ed.  GarnjiT). 


316  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

conceive  things  as  united  is  to  conceive  them  as  one  and  the 
same  thlruj^  And  when  she  objects  that  the  reciprocal 
action  between  soul  and  body  is  a  self-evident  fact,  and 
that  it  is  easier  to  attribute  extension  to  the  soul  than  to 
contradict  this  evidence,  Descartes  replies :  "  I  pray  your 
higlmess  kindly  to  attribute  matter  and  extension  to  the 
soul,  or,  in  other  words,  to  conceive  it  as  united  to  the 
body ;  and  after  you  have  so  conceived  it  and  have  tested 
the  notion  in  your  own  case,  it  will  not  be  difficult  to  see 
that  the  matter  attributed  to  thought  is  not  thought  itself, 
and  that  the  extension  of  this  matter  is  quite  different  from 
the  extension  of  thought :  the  former  is  bound  to  a  certain 
place  from  which  it  wholly  excludes  the  extension  of  the 
body,  which  is  not  the  case  with  the  latter,  and  your  high- 
ness will  find  no  trouble  in  understanding  the  distinction 
between  body  and  soul  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  your  high- 
ness has  conceived  them  as  united." 

The  theory,  however,  does  not  hinder  Descartes  from 
speaking  of  the  reciprocal  action  between  soul  and  body, 
as  though  this  action  were  real  and  direct.  His  anthropol- 
ogy, particularly  as  formulated  in  the  Traite  des  passions,^ 
everywhere  assumes  what  his  metaphysics  denies.  In  con- 
tradiction to  the  very  explicit  statements  which  have  just 
been  quoted,  Descartes  holds  that  the  soul  is  united  to  all 
parts  of  the  body;  that  it  exercises  its  functions  more 
especially  in  the  pineal  gland ;  that  the  soul  and  the  body 
act  upon  each  other  through  the  medium  of  this  gland  and 
the  animal  spirits.  However,  he  never  goes  so  far  as  to 
identify  the  "  two  substances."  The  Traite  de  Vhomnie  ct 
dc  la  formation  du  fcetus  ^  points  out  the  distinction  which 
he  draws  between  them :  the  body  walks,  eats,  and  breathes ; 
the  soul  enjoys,  suffers,  desires,  hungers  and  thirsts,  loves, 
hopes,  fears ;    perceives  the  ideas  of  sound,  light,  smell, 

^  Amsterdam,  1650. 

2  Paris,  166-1  (published  by  Clerselier).  In  Latin,  Amst.,  1677, 
cum  noils  Lud.  de  la  Forge. 


THE  CARTESIAN  SCHOOL  317 

taste,  and  resistance ;  wakes,  dreams,  and  faints.  But  all 
these  phenomena  are  consequences  —  consequences  and 
not  effects  —  of  movements  caused  in  the  pores  of  the 
brain,  the  seat  of  the  soul,  by  the  entrance  and  the  exit  of 
the  animal  spirits.  Witliout  the  hochj,  and  particularly 
without  the  Irain,  all  these  phenomena,  as  well  as  the  memorij 
in  tvhich  theij  are  retained,  ivould  disappear,  and  nothing 
would  be  left  to  the  soul  except  the  conception  of  pure 
ideas  of  substance,  thought,  space,  and  infinity,  —  ideas 
which  are  wholly  independent  of  sensation.  Moreover, 
the  ideas  which  need  the  cooperation  of  the  senses,  and 
consequently  of  the  brain,  are  entirely  different  from  the 
objects  which  we  suppose  them  to  represent.  The  idea  is 
immaterial ;  the  object,  material ;  the  idea  is  therefore  the 
opposite  of  the  object,  even  though  it  be  its  faithful  image. 
Our  ideas  of  material  qualities  no  more  resemble  the  ob- 
jects than  pain  reseml^les  the  needle  causing  it,i  or  the 
tickling  resembles  the  feather  which  occasions  it. 

We  see,  the  founder  of  French  philosophy,  though  a 
rationalist  and  spiritualist  in  principle,  really  approximates 
empiricism  and  materialism.  His  animal-machine  antici- 
pates the  Man  a  Machine  of  La  Mettrie.  Though  dog- 
matic in  his  belief  that  extension  is  a  reality,  he  is  the 
precursor  of  Locke,  Hume,  and  Kant,  in  that  he  makes 
a  clear  and  absolute  distinction  between  our  ideas  of 
material  qualities  and  their  external  causes. 

S  54.     The  Cartesian  School  "^ 

The  philosophy  of  Descartes  clearly  and  accurately  ex- 
pressed the  ideals  of  its  age:  the  downfall  of  traditional 

1  Traile'flu  monde  ou  de  la  lumiere,  chap.  1,  Paris,  1664  (published 
by  Clerselier). 

2  F.  Bouillier,  Ilisloire  de  In  philosnphie  carte'sleune ;  Dainiron, 
Hvitoire  de  la  philosnphle  du  dix-xt>plleme  siecle  ;  E.  Sai.sset,  Prdcursenrs 
et  disriplfs  de  Df-sraiirs,  Paris,  1862  ;  [G.  Monclianij),  Histoirr  du  Car- 
Itsianisme  en  Belf/iipie,  UriLsst-ls,  18S7]. 


318  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

authorities  in  matters  of  knowledge,  and  the  autonomy  of 
reason.  It  met  with  immense  success.  Though  accused 
of  neologism  and  atheism  by  the  Jesuits  of  France  and 
the  severe  Calvinists  of  Holland,  though  attacked  in  the 
name  of  empiricism  by  Thomas  Hobbes  and  Pieriie 
Gassendt,  and  in  the  name  of  scepticism  by  IIuet,  Bishop 
of  Avranches,^  and  Piemre  Bayle,^  it  gathered  around 
its  standard  men  like  Clerseliei;,^  de  la  Foik^e,* 
Sylvain  Ri^.Gis,^  Clauberg,*^  Arnauld,''  Nicole,^  Male- 

BRANCHE,  GeULINCX,  BALTHAZAR  BeKKER,  and  SPINOZA. 

Even  the  leaders  of  militant  Catholicism,  Bossuet  and 
Fenelon,  felt  its  irresistiljle  influence.^ 

1  1G30-1721.  Censura  philo.'iophice  carlesiancB,  Vnv\s,lQQ9,  etc.  The 
sceptical  freethinker  Huet  differs  from  Bayle,  and  resembles  Pascal 
in  that  he  teaches  theological  scepticism,  i.  e.,  a  form  of  scepticism 
which  serves  as  a  stepping-stone  for  religious  faith. 

2  lGi7-170G.  Author  of  the  celebrated  Dictionnalre  histnrique  et 
critique  (Rotterdam,  1697  ff.),  and  j)recarsor  of  the  religious  criticists 
of  tlie  eighteenth  and  nineteenth  centuries.  [SeeL.  Feuerbach,  Pierre 
Bayle,  etc.,  Leipsic,  1844.] 

3  Died  168G.     Publisher  of  Opera  pm^lhuma  De^carli^. 

*  Tractatus  de  mente  humana,  ejus  facultatibus  et  fuiictionibus,  Am- 
sterdam, 1G69. 

6  1632-1707.  Conrs  entier  de  la  pJiilosophie,  3  vols.,  Paris,  1G90; 
Amst.   1691. 

®  162.5-1665.  Initiatio  pliUnsnphi  s.  did)!tatio  cartesiana,  1655 ;  Loc/ica 
vetus,  et  nova:  ontosophia  ;  de  cnc/rritione  Dei  et  nostri,  Duisburg,  165G; 
Opera  phdonophica,  Amst.,  1G91.  [See  H.  Miiller,  /.  Clauherg  und 
seine  Stellung  im  Cartesianismus,  Jena,  1891.] 

T  Died  1694.  Works,  Lausanne,  4.5  vols.,  4to,  1775-1783  ;  [philo- 
sophical works  published  by  J.  Simon  and  C.  Jourdain,  Paris,  1893. 
See  F.  R.  Vicajee,  Antoine  Arnaidd,  Bombay,  1881]. 

8  Died  1695.  Philosophical  works  published  by  Jourdain,  1845. 
[For  the  Port-Royalists  Arnauld  and  Nicole  see :  PL  Reuchlin, 
Geschiclitc  von  Port-Royal,  Hamburg  and  Gotha,  1839-44 ,  St.  Beuve, 
Port-Royal,  3d  ed.,  Paris,  1867]. 

^  The  former,  in  his  Traite  de  la  connaisance  de  Dieu  et  de  soi-meme ; 
the  latter,  in  his  Traite  de  Vexistence  et  des  atlributs  de  Dieu,  and  his 
Lettres  sur  la  viclaplnjsique. 


THE  CARTESIAN  SCHOOL  319 

Two  great  problems  dominate  the  speculations  of  the 
new  school.  What  is  the  relation  between  soul  and 
body,  mind  and  matter?  That  is  the  ontological  ques- 
tion, with  which  the  question  regarding  the  origin  of 
ideas  and  the  certainty  of  knowledge,  or  the  critical 
problem,  is  closely  allied.  What  is  the  relation  between 
the  soul  and  God,  —  between  human  liberty,  on  the  one 
hand,  and  di\-ine  onmipotence,  on  the  other  ?  That  is 
the  moral  question,  which  is  closely  connected  with  the 
preceding. 

In  order  to  solve  the  former,  reasoning  and  experience 
must  be  reconciled.  If  we  consult  the  facts  only,  sensa- 
tion is  evidently  the  body's  action  upon  the  soul,  the  action 
of  matter  on  mind.  And  evidently,  voluntary  movement 
is  the  action  of  the  mind  on  the  body.  We  are  acted  upon 
by  matter,  and  react  upon  it.  Hence  a  relation,  a  very 
intimate  relation,  obtains  between  the  two  substances.  But 
when  they  compare  the  results  of  observation  with  the 
dualistic  metaphysics  of  the  master,  the  Cartesians  become 
involved  in  insoluble  difliculties,  and  are  confronted  by 
mysteries  on  every  side.  The  mind  is  a  thinking  sub- 
stance and  without  extension ;  the  body,  an  extended  and 
unconscious  substance.  The  mind  is  nothing  but  thought ; 
matter,  nothing  but  extension.  Now,  though  we  may  con- 
ceive that  an  extended  substance  receives  an  impulse  from 
another  extended  substance,  and  then  communicates  this  to 
a  third  substance,  likewise  extended,  the  aforesaid  extended 
substance  cannot  possibly  be  moved  by  something  abso- 
lutely inextended;  nor,  conversely,  can  an  absolutely  inex- 
tended  thing  transmit  any  movement  whatever  to  sucli  an 
extended  substance.  We  can  coiun'ive  of  mutual  action 
l)et\veen  similar  substances,  but  not  l)etwecn  oi)j)ositr  sul)- 
stances.  Hence  we  cannot  assume  that  a  real  iiiihient'e 
{injluxtis  physicus)  is  exercised  l)y  the  ]nn\\  iqioii  the  soul, 
or  vice  versa. 


820  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

According  to  Arnold  Geulincx  ^  of  Antwerp  and  Nicho- 
las Malebranche,^  a  member  of  the  Oratory  of  Jesus,  tlie 
most  illustrious  representatives  of  the  Cartesian  school, 
the  "  apparent "  action  between  soul  and  body  can  be 
explained  only  by  the  supernatural  concourse  of  God. 
God  intervenes  on  occasio7i  of  every  volition,  in  order  to 
excite  in  our  bodies  the  movement  which  the  soul  cannot 
communicate  to  it  of  itself,  and  on  occasion  of  each  cor- 
poreal excitation,  in  order  to  produce  the  corresponding 
perception  in  the  soul.  Our  volitions  are  the  occasional 
causes,  God  the  efficient  cause  of  our  movements;  the 
sense-objects  are  the  occasional  causes,  God  the  efficient 
cause  of  our  perceptions. 

1  1625-1669.  Arnoldi  Geulincx,  Logica  fandamenlis  suis,  a  quihus 
hactenus  collapsa  fuerat,  reslituta,  Leyden.  1662 ;  Metaphysica  vera  et  ad 
mentem  peripateticam,  Amsterdam,  1691;  Tvoodi  aeavrov  slve  Ethica,  2d 
ed.,  with  notes,  Leyden,  1675  ff.  ;  Plti/sica  vera,  1688 ;  etc.  [^Philos- 
ophical Works  of  Geulincx,  ed.  by  J.  P.  N".  Land,  3  vols  ,  The  Hague, 
1891-93.  On  Geulincx  see:  E.  Pfleiderer,  Arnold  Geulincx,  etc., 
Tiibingen,  1882 ;  same  author,  Leibniz  wid  Geulincx,  ib.,  1884;  V.  van 
der  Haeghen,  Geidincx,  jStiide  sur  sa  vie,  sa  philosophie  et  ses  ouvraxjes, 
Ghent,  1886;  J.  P.  N.  Land,  A.  G.  u.  seine  Philosophie,  The  Hague, 
1895.  — Tr.] 

2  1638-1715.  De  la  recherche  de  la  ve'rite',  on  I'on  traite  de  la  nature, 
de  Vesprit  de  Vhomme  et  de  Vusage  qu'il'doit  faire  pour  e'viter  I'erreur  dans 
les  sciences,  Paris,  1675;  1712;  [new  ed.,  with  an  introduction  by 
F.  Bouillier,  Paris,  1880 ;  Engl.  tr.  by  Taylor,  London,  1700,  1720]  ; 
Conversations  meiaphysiques  et  chretiennes,  1077;  Traite  de  la  nature  et 
de  la  grace,  Amsterdam,  1680,  [Engl.tr.,  London,  1695];  Traite  de 
morale,  Rotterdam,  1684;  [new  ed.  by  H.  Joly,  Paris,  1882];  Medita- 
tions metaphysiques  et  chretiennes,  1684  ;  Entretiens  sur  la  metaphysiqrie  et 
sur  la  religion,  1688  ;  Traite  de  I'amour  de  Dieu,  1697 ;  etc.  (Euvres, 
Paris,  1712;  (Euvres,  hy  Genoude,  2  vols.,  Paris,  1837;  (Euvres  de 
Malebranche,  published  by  Jules  Simon,  4  vols.,  Paris,  1871.  Blam- 
pignon,  £tude  sur  Malebranche,  d\ipres  des  documents  manuscrits,  Paris, 
1862 ;  Leon  OUe-Laprune,  La  philosophie  de  Malebranche,  2  vols., 
Paris,  1870-72 ;  [Mario  Novaro,  Die  Philosophie  des  Nicholas  Male- 
branche, Berlin,  1893;  Francois  Pillon,  L'e'volution  de  Videalisme  en  dix- 
huitieme  siecle  :  Malebranche  et  ses  critiques  (L^Anne'e  philosophique, 
IV.,  1894)  ;  Spinozisme  et  Malebranchisme  (Id.  Y.,  18.Q.')-  —  T'r.]. 


THE  CARTESIAN  SCHOOL  321 

Occasionalism  concealed  the  boldest  negations  beneath 
its  seeming  naiveness.  For,  in  the  first  place,  if  there  is 
no  direct  influence  between  mind  and  body;  if  God,  that 
is,  infinite  wisdom  and  goodness,  is  the  necessary  and  only 
mediator  between  matter  and  soul,  we  must  conclude,  with 
the  Dutch  Cartesian  Balthasar  Bekker,^  that  sorcery, 
magic,  or  spiritism,  in  every  shape  or  form,  is  a  detestable 
and  ridiculous  superstition. 

Nay,  more.  If  God  is  the  efficient  author  of  all  my  per. 
ceptions  and  movements,  I  am  nothing  but  a  nominal,  ap- 
parent, and  fictitious  subject,  and  God  is  the  real  subject  of 
my  actions  and  thoughts :  it  is  he  who  acts  in  me ;  it  is  he 
who  thinks  in  me.  The  former  consequence  of  occasional- 
ism (God  acts  in  me)  was  cbawn  by  Geulincx,  the  latter 
(God  thinks  in  me),  by  Malebranche.  According  to  Geu- 
lincx, we  are  not,  strictly  speaking,  minds,  but  modes  of 
mind.  Take  away  the  mode,  and  God  alone  remains.^ 
According  to  Malebranche,  God  is  the  abode  of  spirits,  as 
space  is  the  abode  of  bodies.  He  is  to  the  soul  what  light 
is  to  the  eye.  Just  as  tliis  organ  dwells  in  the  light,  so  the 
mind  is  in  God,  thinks  in  God,  sees  in  God.^  We  do  not 
perceive  the  material  things  themselves,  but  the  idea-types 
of  the  tilings,  their  ideal  substance  as  it  exists  in  God.  In- 
deed, how  could  the  eye  of  the  mind  see  matei'ial  things  ? 
To  see  an  object  means  to  assimilate  it,  to  make  it  our  own, 
does  it  not?  And  how  can  substances  whicli  exclude  each 
other  by  their  very  essence,  how  can  niiiid  and  matter,  ])en- 
etrate  each  other  ?     TTow  can  the  sj^iritual  eye  assimilate 

^  1634-1698.  Dft  philoi^n/ihin  cnrt.  (iilmniiitin  ran/Iitla  et  sincera, 
Wosel,  1608;  De  hetover'le  iveerp.l'l  {The  V/orld  Beicilched),  4  vols.,  Leu- 
warden,  1690;  Ainsterdain,  1001  (a  work  occasioned  hy  the  appear- 
ance of  tlie  comet  in  1680). 

*  Meln/jfnjsicn,  j).  56  :  Suinus  hjilur  modi  titcniis,  si  uufcras  jiiodum, 
remanet  Deus.     ('f.  ]>.  1  10. 

'  T)e  hi  rpi'hrrrhe  de  la  ri'rili',  TTI.,  2,  6. 

•>\ 


322  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

what  is  foreign  to  its  nature  ?     Mind  can  see  nothing  except 
mind. 

Cartesianism,  though  at  first  theistic,  ultimately  changed 
into  a  kind  of  pantheism  in  the  systems  of  Geulincx  and 
Malebranche,  which  naturally  led  to  absolute  determinism 
in  ethics ;  for  it  made  God  the  universal  agent,  so  to  speak. 
This  element  particularly  impressed  the  Dutch  Calvinists 
and  the  Catholics  who  accepted  Jansen's  and  St.  Augus- 
tine's teachings  on  predestination  and  prevenient  grace 
(Arnauld,  Nicole,  Lancelot,  etc.).  These  thinkers  com- 
bined extreme  rationalism  with  the  mysticism  of  Pascal.^ 

1  1623-1662.  CEuvres  completes,  1779;  published  by  Bossut,  1819. 
Pense'es,  fragments  et  lettres  de  Blaise  Pascal,  published  by  Faugere,  2 
vols.,  1814  ;  Pensees  publ.  dans  leurs  textes  authent.  avec  une  introduction, 
des  notes  et  des  remarques,  by  M.  E.  Havet,  2d  ed.,  2  vols.,  Paris,  1866; 
[Engl,  transl.  of  Pascal's  Thoufjhts  by  C.  Kegan  Paul,  London,  1885; 
of  Provincial  Letters,  1889].  V.  Cousin,  j^ludes  sur  Pascal,  5th  ed., 
Paris,  1857  ;  Vinet,  ^Etudes  sur  Blaise  Pascal,  Paris,  1818  ;  3d  ed.,  1876 ; 
Tissot,  Pascal,  reflexions  sur  les  Pense'es,  Dijon  and  Paris,  1869  ;  [Drey- 
dorff's  monographs,  1870,  1875 ;  E.  Droz,  ^tude  sur  le  scepiicisme  de 
Pascal,  etc.,  Paris,  1886.  — Tr.]  As  a  physicist  and  mathematician, 
and  especially  as  a  writer,  the  author  of  the  Pense'es  and  Lettres  pm- 
vinciales  ranks  with  Descartes.  As  a  philosoj)her  he  was  at  first  equally 
attracted  by  Cartesian  dogmatism,  which  appealed  to  his  "  geometric 
mind,"  and  the  new  Pyrrhonism  of  Montaigne.  Then,  owing  to  the 
influence  of  Port-Royal  and  the  occiu-rence  of  an  event  which  produced 
in  him  an  entire  change  of  heart,  he  became  an  enthusiastic  adherent 
of  Aiigustinian  Christianity.  Ilis  Pensees  form  the  raw  material,  so 
to  si^eak,  of  what  he  intended  to  be  an  apology  of  his  new  faith.  Rea- 
son revealed  itself  to  him  in  all  its  weakness,  and  made  him  a  sceptic ; 
natm-e  appeared  to  him  in  all  her  ugliness,  and  made  him  pessimistic. 
It  was  the  "  heart "  — we  should  say,  the  conscience  —  that  revealed  to 
him  the  real  God,  the  living  and  personal  God  of  the  Gospel.  For 
philosophy  he  henceforth  had  nothing  but  contempt.  —  Among  the 
modern  writers  who  have  made  a  study  of  Pascal,  Yinet  possesses  the 
merit  of  having  presented  him  in  his  true  light,  i.  e.,  as  the  forerunner 
of  Schopenhauer  and  Schleiermacher.  Cousin  saw  in  Pascal  nothing 
but  the  sceptical  and  maniacal  element.  Tliough  not  ignoring  the 
pathological  element  in  his  mysticism,  we,  for  our  part,  discover  three 


SPINOZA  323 

But  the  system  had  only  to  be  cli vested  of  its  theological 
shell  to  become  Spinozistic  natui-alism. 

§  DO.      Spinoza 

Baruch  (Benedict)  Spinoza,^  Spinosa,  or  Despinoza,  was 
born  at  Amsterdam,  in  1632,  of  Portuguese  Jewish  parents, 

truths  iu  his  philosophy  :  first,  reason  and  experience,  without  con- 
science, cannot  yield  us  real  truth ;  secondly,  experience  without  con- 
science necessarily  leads  to  pessimism ;  and  finally,  the  will  —  for  that 
is  what  Pascal  means  by  the  words  heart  (cceur)  and  feeling  (senllment) 
—  takes  precedence  of  reason,  and  subjects  it  to  its  laws. 

'  Benedicts  de  Spinoza  opera  quce  supersunt  omnia,  iterum  edenda 
curavit,  prcefationes,  vilam  auctoris,  nee  nan  notitias,  quce  ad  historiain 
scripluruin  pertinent,  addidit,  H.  E.  G.  Paulus,  Jena,  1802-03.  More 
recent  editions  by  A.  Gfrtirer,  Stuttgart,  1830 ;  Riedel,  R.  des  Cartes  et 
B.  de  Spinoza  prcecipua  opera  philosophica,  Leipsic,  1843  ;  C.  H.  Bruder, 
3  vols.,  Leipsic,  1843-40 ;  completed  hy  J.  van  Vlooteu,  Ad.  B.  de  Sp. 
opera  quce  supersunt  omnia,  supplementum  contin.  tractatum  de  Deo  et 
homine,  etc.,  Amsterdam,  1862 ;  [best  edition  by  Van  Vlooten  and 
Land,  B.  de  Sj).  opera  quotquot  reperta  sunt,  2  vols..  The  Hague,  1882- 
83].  Spinoza's  complete  works  translated  into  French  by  Saisset, 
Paris,  1842;  18G1 ;  3  vols.,  1872;  [into  German  by  B.  Auerbach,  2d 
ed.,  2  vols.,  Stuttgart,  1872;  phil.  works  trans,  into  German  by  Kirch- 
mann  and  Schaarschmidt  (in  the  Philos.  B'thliothek,  2  vols.).  The  Chief 
Works  of  B.  de  Sp.,  transl.  into  English  by  R.  H.  M.  Elwes,  2  vols., 
London,  1883-84  ff. ;  Ethics,  transl.  by  White,  London,  1883  ;  2d  ed., 
1894;  Selections,  tv.  by  Fullerton,  Xew  York,  1892;  new  ed.,  1895; 
transl.  of  Trnctntus  de  intellectus  emendatione,  by  White,  Xew  York, 
1895. — Tr.]  Biographies  of  Spinoza  by  Coler  (in  Dutch,  1705,  in 
French,  1706)  and  Lucas  (La  vie  et  Vesprit  de  Mr.  Benoit  de  Spinosa, 
1719);  Arniand  Saintes,  JJisloire  de  la  vie  et  des  ouvrafjes  de  Spinosa, 
Paris,  1842;  J.  van  Vlooten,  Baruch  d'Espinoza,  zyn  leven  en  schriflcn, 
Amsterdam,  1802;  [2d  ed.,  Schiedam,  1871].  [T.  Camerer,  Die  Lehre 
Spinozas,  Stuttgart,  1877;  F.  Pollock,  Spinoza,  His  Life  and  Philosoph;/, 
London,  1880;  J.  IMartineau,  A  Study  of  Spinoza,  London,  1882;  also 
in  Tapes  of  Ethical  Theory,  Oxford,  18SG;  J.  Caird,  Spinoza,  Edin- 
burgh, 18S8;  R.  Worms,  ia  morale  de  Spinosa,  Paris,  1892;  L.  Brun- 
schvigg,  Spinoza,  Paris,  1891.  See  also  K.  Fisdicr's  excellent  volume 
on  Spinoza,  History  of  Philosophy,  ].,  2.  For  full  ri'ft'riMices  see  LVber- 
weg-Hr-iiize  and  .\.  van  d'-r  Linth', />.  Sjiinoza  Bibliografie,Griive\\h!ige, 
1871.  — Tu.] 


324  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

who  were,  it  seems,  in  good  circumstances.  In  accordance 
with,  the  wishes  of  his  father  he  studied  theology,  ^«5ut  soon 
showed  a  decided  preference  for  free  philosophical  specula- 
tion. After  being  excommunicated  by  the  synagogue,  which 
made  unsuccessful  attempts  to  bring  him  back  to  the  faitli 
of  his  fatliers,  he  repaired  to  Rhynsburg,  then  to  Voorburg, 
and  finally  to  The  Hague,  where  he  died,  a  poor  and  per- 
secuted man,  in  1677.  His  love  of  independence  led 
him  to  decline  the  Heidelberg  professorship  of  philosophy 
offered  him  by  Karl  Ludwig,  the  Elector  Palatine.  He 
wrote  his  principal  works  at  The  Hague  between  the 
years  1660  and  1677.  In  1663  he  published  the  treatise 
entitled:  Benati  Descartes  'principiorum  philosopJiice  Pars 
I.  et  II.  more  geometrico  demonstrato},  and  in  1670,  the 
anonymous  work :  Tradatus  thcologico-poUticus,  in  which 
he  discusses  and  gives  rationalistic  solutions  of  such  prob- 
lems as  inspiration,  prophecy,  miracles,  and  free  inves- 
tigation. His  chief  work,  Eihica  more  geometrico  demon- 
strata,  and  several  other  less  important  treatises,  were 
issued  after  his  death  under  the  care  of  his  friend 
Ludwig  Meyer.i  His  Tradatus  de  Deo,  homine,  cjusque 
felicitate  was  unknown  to  the  philosophical  public  until 
1852.2 

Spinozism,  as  set  forth  in  the  Dthics,  is  the  logical  con- 
sequence of  the  Cartesian  definition  of  substance,^  and  the 
consistent  application  of  the  method  of  the  French  philoso- 

1  [Ludwig  Stein  has  shown  (Neue  Atifschlusae  uher  den  litterarischen 
NacJilass  und  die  Heramgabe  der  Opera  posilmma  Sp.'s,  Arch.  f.  G.  d. 
Ph.,  T,  18SS)  that  the  Opera  posthuma  were  published  by  the  physician 
G.  H.  SchuUer  and  not  by  Meyer.  Meyer  most  likely  wrote  the  pref- 
ace. —  Tr.] 

2  Published  by  Ed.  Bohmer,  Halle,  1852 ;  [by  Van  Ylooten,  Am- 
sterdam, 1862 ;  by  Schaarschmidt,  id.,  1869.  German  translation  ;  by 
Schaarschmidt  (vol.  18,  Phil.  Bihliothek),  1869;  by  Sigwart,  2d  ed., 
Tubingen,  1881.  — Tu.]. 

*  PrincipJes,  I.,  .51. 


SPINOZA  325 

pher.^  Our  author  is  not  content  with  developing  his 
doctrines  by  pure  deductive  reasoning,  but  also  presents 
them  )iwre  yeometrico.  From  a  certain  number  of  deluiitions 
he  deduces  a  system  whose  parts  are  logically  connected 
with  each  other.  This  method  of  exposition  is  not  an 
arbitrary  form  or  a  provisional  fiamework :  it  is  of  a  piece 
with  the  system,  and,  one  might  say,  constitutes  its  perma- 
nent skeleton.  When  Spinoza  treats  of  the  world,  of  man 
and  his  passions,  as  Euclid  in  his  Elements  treats  of  lines, 
planes,  and  angles,  it  is  because,  in  principle  and  in  fact, 
he  sets  as  great  a  value  upon  these  objects  of  philosophy  as 
the  geometer  upon  his.'-^  Just  as  the  conclusions  of  geom- 
etry inevitably  follow  from  their  axioms,  so  the  moral  and 
physical  facts  which  the  philosopher  considers  follow  with 
absolute  necessity  from  the  nature  of  things,  expressed  by 
their  definitions ;  and  he  no  more  inquires  into  their  final 
causes  than  the  geometer  asks  to  what  end  the  tliree  angles 
of  a  given  triangle  are  equal  to  two  right  angles.  It  is  not 
his  method  that  leads  him  to  mathematical  determinism ; 
on  the  contrary,  he  employs  it  because,  from  the  very  out- 
set, he  views  the  world  from  the  geometrical,  i.  e.,  deter- 
ministic standpoint.  He  agrees  with  Descartes,  Plato, 
and  Pythagoras  that  philosophy  is  the  generalization  of 
mathematics. 

I.    Defestitions 

The  fundamental  notions  of  Spinoza's  system  are  sub- 
stance, attribute,  and  mode.     "  By  substance,''^  he  says,  "  I 

^  We  do  not  at  all  wish  to  be  understood  as  denying  the  influence 
which  the  Jewish  theology  of  the  Middle  Ages  exercised  on  Spinoza's 
intellectual  development.  This  influence  is  apparent,  and  it  would  be 
ridiculous  to  call  it  in  (|iies1i()ii.  It  was  owing  to  it  that  Spinoza  found 
what  he  did  find  in  Descartes;  he  was  already  a  pantheist  when  lie 
took  up  the  study  of  the  French  piiilosopher.  SI  ill,  we  nuist  main- 
tain tliat  his  leading  thought,  and  particularly  his  method,  aii;  llio 
logical  outcome  of  Die  Cartesian  system. 

^   Trachihm  politiciis,  c.  1,  §  4;   J-Jl/u'rs,  III.,  Preface. 


326  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

understand  that  which  exists  in  itself,  and  is  conceived  by 
itself,  i.  e.,  that  which  does  not  need  the  conception  of  any 
other  tiling  in  order  to  be  conceived."^  "By  attrihutc  I 
understand  that  wliich  the  intellect  perceives  as  constitut- 
ing the  essence  of  the  substance."  ^  "  By  ?nocle  I  under- 
stand the  modifications  of  the  substance,  i.  e.,  that  which 
exists  in  and  is  conceived  by  something  other  than  itself."  ^ 

II.  Deductions 

1.    Theory  of  Substance 

From  the  definition  of  substance  it  follows:  (1)  that 
substance  is  its  own  cause ;  ^  otherwise  it  would  be  pro- 
duced by  sometlnng  other  than  itself,  in  which  case  it 
would  not  be  a  substance ;  (2)  that  it  is  infinite  ^  (if  it  were 
finite,  it  would  be  limited  by  other  substances,  and  conse- 
quently depend  on  them);  (3)  that  it  is  the  only  sub- 
stance ;  ^  for  if  there  were  two  substances,  they  would  limit 
each  other  and  cease  to  be  independent,  i.  e.,  they  would 
cease  to  be  substances.  Hence  there  can  be  only  one  sub- 
stance, which  depends  on  nothing,  and  on  which  everything 
depends.''  At  this  point  Spinoza  deviates  from  the  Car- 
tesian philosophy;  but  he  deviates  from  it  because  the 
system  itself  invites  him  to  do  so.     Descartes  himself  had 

^  Ethics,  I.,  Def.  3:  Per  suhMantiam  hitelllgo  id  quod  in  se  est  et  per 
se  concipitur :  hoc  est  id,  cujus  conceptus  non  indiget  conceptu  alterius  rei, 
a  quo  formari  deheat. 

2  Eth.,  I.,  Def.  4  :  Per  attrihutum  intelligo  id  quod  intellectus  de  sub- 
stantia percipit,  tanquam  ejusdem  essentiam  constituens. 

'  Elh.,  I.,  Def.  5  :  Per  modum  intelligo  substantice  affectiones  sive  id 
quod  in  alio  est,  per  quod  concipntur. 

4  Eth.,  I.,  Prop.  7.  5  7f/.^  i^  Pi-op.  8.  «  Id.,  I.,  Props.  11  f. 

'  Monotheism  here  becomes  monism.  According  to  monotheism, 
God  is  the  only  God  but  not  the  only  being  ;  according  to  monism  or 
pantheism,  he  is  the  only  being  and  the  only  substance  ;  he  is  the  only 
existing  being  {Eth.,  I.,  Prop,  li  ;  Letter  XLI.). 


SPINOZA  327 

intimated  by  his  definition  of  substance  that  in  reality 
God  alone  is  substance,  and  that  the  word  substance  when 
applied  to  creatures  has  not  the  same  meaning  as  when 
applied  to  the  infinite  Being.i  But  instead  of  removing 
the  ambiguity,  he  continued  to  call  finite  things  substances  ; 
and  in  order  to  distinguish  them  from  God,  created  sub- 
stances, as  though  liis  definition  could  make  a  created, 
relative,  and  finite  substance  anything  but  a  substance  that 
is  not  a  substance.  Hence  we  must  refrain  from  applying 
the  term  "substance"  to  tilings  which  do  not  exist  by 
themselves ;  the  term  must  be  reserved  for  the  being- 
which  exists  in  itself  and  is  conceived  by  itself,  i.  e.,  for 
God.     God  alone  is  substance,  and  substance  is  God. 

Substance  being  the  only  being,  and  not  dependent  on 
anything,  is  absolutely  free  in  the  sense  that  it  is  deter- 
mined solely  by  itself.  Its  liberty  is  synonymous  with 
necessity,  but  not  with  constraint?  To  act  necessarily 
means  to  determine  one's  self;  to  act  under  constraint 
means  to  be  determined,  in  spite  of  one's  self,  by  an  exter- 
nal cause.  That  God  should  act,  and  act  as  he  does,  is  as 
necessary  as  it  is  that  the  circle  should  have  equal  radii. 
Because  a  circle  is  a  circle,  its  radii  are  equal ;  because 
substance  is  substance,  it  has  modes ,  but  it  is  free  because 
its  own  nature  and  no  extraneous  cause  compels  it  to 
modify  itself.  Absolute  freedom  excludes  both  constraint 
and  caprice.^ 

Substance  is  eternal  and  necessary;  or,  in  the  language 
of  the  Sc])<)ol,  its  essence  implies  existence.  It  cannot  l)e 
an  individual  or  a  ])erson,  like  tlie  God  of  religions;  for,  in 
that  case,  it  would  be  a  determined  being,  and  all  deter- 
mination is  relative  negation.*  It  is  the  common  source  of 
all  personal  existences,  without  being  limited  by  any  of 
them.     It  lias  neither  intellect  nor  will :  ^  for  botli  presup- 

1  Principles,  I.,  51.  2  pjj,^  y^  p,.o],.  17 

«  Id,  r.  rir.p.  17,  Sdioliurn.  *  .Set-  also  p.  3:51,  1.  8. 

*  Eth.,  I.,  rr(ii>.  32  and  CoroUariL-s. 


328  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

pose  personality.  Not  being  intelligent,  it  does  not  act 
with  an  end  in  view ;  it  is  the  efficient  cause  of  things. 
"  I  confess,"  says  Spinoza,  "  that  the  view  wliich  subjects 
all  tilings  to  the  indifferent  will  of  God,  and  makes  them 
all  depend  on  his  caprice  (Descartes,  the  Jesuits,  and  the 
Scotists),  comes  nearer  the  truth  than  the  view  of  those 
who  maintain  that  God  acts  in  all  things  ^v'ith  a  view  to 
the  good  (sub  ratione  boni).  For  these  latter  persons  — 
Plato,  for  example  —  seem  to  set  up  some  tiling  outside  of 
God,  which  does  not  depend  on  God,  but  to  which  God,  in 
acting,  looks  as  a  model,  or  at  which  he  aims  as  a  goal. 
This  surely  is  only  another  way  of  subjecting  God  to  fate, 
and  is  a  most  absurd  view  of  God,  whom  we  have  shown 
to  be  the  first  and  only  free  cause  of  the  essence  and  the 
existence  of  all  things."  ^ 

Though  Spinoza  calls  God  the  cause  of  the  universe,  he 
takes  the  word  "  cause  "  in  a  very  different  sense  from  its 
usual  meaning.  His  idea  of  cause  is  identical  with  his 
notion  of  substance ;  his  conception  of  effect,  with  that  of 
accident,  mode,  modification.  God,  accorcUng  to  him,  is 
the  cause  of  the  universe  as  the  apple  is  the  cause  of  its 
red  color,  as  milk  is  the  cause  of  whiteness,  sweetness,  and 
liquidness,  and  not  as  the  father  is  the  cause  of  the  child's 
existence,  or  even  as  the  sun  is  the  cause  of  heat.  The 
father  is  the  external  and  transient  cause  of  his  son,  who 
has  a  separate  existence  of  his  own.  So,  too,  heat,  though 
connected  with  the  sun,  has  an  existence  apart  from  the 
star  producing  it :  it  exists  alongside  of  and  outside  of  the 
sun.  The  case  is  not  the  same  mth  God  as  related  to 
the  world ;  he  is  not  its  transcendent  and  transient  cause, 
but  the  imriument  cause ;  ^  i.  e.,  if  we  understand  Spinoza 
correctly,  God  is  not  the  cause  of  the  world  in  the  proper 
and  usual  sense  of  the  term,  a  cause  acting  from  without 
and  creating  it  once  for  all,  but  the  permanent  substratum 
1  Eth.,  T.,  Prop.  33,  Scholium,  2.  *  Id.,  I.,  Prop.  18. 


SPINOZA  329 

of  things,  the  innermost  substance  of  the  universe.^  God 
is  neither  the  temporal  creator  of  the  workl,  as  dualism 
and  Chi-istiauity  conceive  liim,  nor  even  its  father^  as 
Cabalistic  and  Gnostic  speculation  assumes ;  he  is  the  uni- 
verse itself,  considered  sub  specie  ^ternitatis,  the  eter- 
nal universe.  The  words  God  and  universe  designate  one 
and  the  same  tiling :  Nature,  which  is  both  the  source  of 
all  beings  {natura  naturans  sive  Deus)  and  the  totality  of 
these  beings  considered  as  its  effects  {natura  naturata). 

In  short,  Spinoza  is  neither  an  acosmist  nor  an  atheist, 
but  a  cosmotheist  or  pantheist  in  the  strict  sense  of  the 
word ;  that  is  to  say,  his  cosmos  is  God  himself,  and  liis 
God  the  cosmical  substance. 

2.    Tlieonj  of  Attributes 

Substance  consists  of  infinite  attributes,  each  of  which 
expresses  in  its  way  the  essence  of  God.^  The  human  in- 
tellect knows  two  of  these :  extension  and  thought.  The 
cosmic  substance  is  an  extended  and  thinking  tiring ;  ^  it 
forms  both  the  substance  of  all  bodies,  or  matter,  and  the 
substance  of  all  minds.  ^Matter  and  mind  are  not  two  oj)- 
posite  substances,  as  in  Cartesianism  ;  they  are  two  different 
ways  of  conceiving  one  and  the  same  substance,  two  differ- 
ent names  for  one  and  the  same  thing.  Each  of  the  attri- 
butes of  the  substance  is  relativcl//  infinite.  Tlie  sul)stance 
is  absolufeli/  infinite  in  the  sense  that  there  is  nothing  be- 
yond it :  the  attribute  is  only  relatively  infinite,  that  is, 
after  its  kind.*  Extension  is  infinite  as  sucli,  and  thought 
is  infinite  as  such  ;  l)ut  neitlier  extension  nor  thought  is  ab- 
solutely infinite,  for  alongside  of  extension  there  is  thought, 

^  Hence,  the  Spinozistic  conception  of  iiniii.nu'ncy  implies  ho\h 
permanency  and,  if  we  may  use  the  term,  iulerinrilij ;  tliat  is  to  say, 
the  immanent  God  is  both  the  inner  and  the  permanent  cause  of  the 
universo. 

2  Eth.,  [.,  T).-f.  0.  8  A/.,  II.,  Props.  1  and  2. 

*  III.,  I.,  iJef.  6,  Explanation. 


330  MODEKN  PHILOSOPHY 

and  alongside  of  thought  there  is  extension,  not  counting 
such  attributes  of  substance  as  are  unknown  to  us.  Sub- 
stance as  such  is  the  sum  of  all  existing  things ;  extension, 
though  infinite  as  extension,  does  not  contain  all  existences 
in  itself,  since  there  are,  in  addition  to  it,  infinite  tliought 
and  tlie  minds  constituted  by  it ;  nor  does  thought  embrace 
the  totality  of  beings,  since  there  are,  besides,  extension 
and  boches. 

It  seems  difhcult,  at  first  sight,  to  reconcile  the  theory  of 
substance  with  the  theory  of  attributes.  According  to  the 
former,  substance  is  ens  absolute  ijideterminatum  ;  according 
to  the  lattei',  it  has  attributes  and  even  an  infinity  of  attri- 
butes. Hence,  Spinoza's  God  seems  to  be  both  an  unquali- 
fied being  and  an  infinitely-qualified  being.  It  has  been 
suggested  that  Spinoza,  like  the  Neo-Platonic  philosophers 
and  the  Jewish  tlieologians  who  do  not  apply  attriljutes  to 
God,  may  haA^e  meant  by  attributes,  not  qualities  inherent 
in  God,  the  supra-rational,  incomprehensible,  and  indefina- 
ble being,  but  the  different  wa^'s  according  to  which  the 
understanding  conceives  God,  i.  e.,  purely  subjective  and 
human  ways  of  thinking  and  speaking.  An  attribute  would 
then  mean :  what  the  human  understanding  att7'ibutes,  as- 
cribes, and,  as  it  were,  adds  to  God,  and  not  what  is  really 
and  objectively  (or  as  Spinoza  would  say,  formally)  in  God ; 
and  substance  would  be  conceived  as  an  extended  and 
thinking  thing,  without  really  being  so.  Spinoza's  defini- 
tion of  attribute  {id  quod  intelleetus  dc  substantia  perciint 
taxqua:m  cjusdem  essentia m  constituens)  is  more  favorable  to 
this  interpretation  than  one  would  suppose.  In  our  opinion 
it  signifies :  that  which  the  intellect  perceives  of  substance 
as  constituting  the  essence  of  it ;  but  it  might  also  mean : 
that  which  the  intellect  perceives  of  substance  as  tliough  it 
constituted  its  essence.^     However,  if  the  second  interpre- 

1  [The  difference  between  tlie  two  interpretations  may  be  more 
clearly  stated  as  follows  :  Some  construe  tlie  participle  constituens  as 


spmozA  331 

tation  were  the  correct  one,  Spinoza  could  not  have  said 
that  the  substance  is  an  extended  and  thinking  thing,  nor, 
above  all,  that  we  have  an  adequate  idea  of  it.  Besides,  it 
is  wholly  unnecessary  to  translate  the  passage  in  the  sub- 
jectivistic  and  "  non-attributistic  "  sense,  simply  in  order  to 
reconcile  the  seemingly  contradictory  theses  of  Spinoza.  In 
fact,  the  contradiction  is  purely  imaginary  and  arises  from 
a  misconception.  The  celebrated  determinatio  negatio  est  ^ 
does  not  signif}^ :  determination  is  negation,  but :  limitation 
is  negation.  By  calling  God  ens  ahsolute  indetcrmiiiatum, 
Spinoza  does  not  mean  to  say  that  God  is  an  absolutely  in- 
determinate being,  or  iion-being,  or  negative  being,  but,  on 
the  contrary,  that  he  has  absolutely  unlimited  attributes,  or 
absolutely  infinite  perfections,  —  that  he  is  a  positive,  con- 
crete, most  real  being,  the  being  who  unites  in  himself  all 
possible  attributes  and  possesses  them  without  limitation. 

Spinoza  evidently  intended  to  forestall  the  objections  of 
the  non-attributists  2  by  ascribing  to  God  infinita  attributa, 
which  seems  to  mean  both  infinite  attributes  and  an  infinite/ 
of  attributes.  God  is  therefore  no  longer  conceived  as 
having  separate  attributes,  which  would  make  liim  a  2mr' 
ticular  being  ;  he  is  the  being  who  combines  in  himself  all 
possible  attributes,  or  the  totality  of  being  Now  each 
divine  attribute  constitutes  a  world :  extension,  the  mate- 
agreeing  -with  (juod,  wliile  others  refer  it  to  intellcctus.  According  to 
the  Litter  (formalislic)  view,  which  is  accepted  by  Hegel  and  Ed.  Erd- 
niann,  the  attri])utes  are  mere  modes  of  human  thinking,  they  are 
merely  in  infellectu,  not  extra  intellectum,  not  realities  in  God.  Accord- 
ing to  the  former  (realistic)  explanation  given  by  K.  Fischer  and 
others,  the  attributes  are  not  merely  modes  or  forms  of  thought,  but 
expressions  of  (Jod's  nature.  They  are  not  merely  in  the  human  mind 
but  in  God.  God  is  equal  to  all  his  attributes.  See  Kuno  Fischer's 
discussion  of  the  point  in  his  Geschichle  der  neuern  Philosophie,  I.,  2, 
Book  nr.,  chap.  III.,  ;}._Th.] 

1  Letter  L. 

'  "Who  maintain  that  to  give  attributes  to  God  means  to  limit  hiin. 


332  MODEKN  PHILOSOPHY 

rial  world  ;  thought,  the  spiritual  world.  Hence,  we  must 
conclude  from  the  infinite  number  of  divine  attributes  that 
there  exists  an  infinite  number  of  worlds  besides  the  two 
worlds  known  to  us,  —  worlds  which  are  neither  material 
nor  spiritual,  and  have  no  relation  to  space  or  time,  but 
depend  on  other  conditions  of  existence  absolutely  inacces- 
sible to  the  human  understanding.^  This  conception  opens 
an  immense  field  to  the  imagination,  without  being  abso- 
lutely contrary  to  reason.  However,  it  must  be  added, 
strictly  speaking :  injinita  attrihuta  are  boundless  attributes 
rather  than  innumerable  attributes.  Had  Spinoza  been 
decided  on  the  question  as  to  whether  the  absolute  has 
attributes  other  than  extension  and  thought,  he  would  evi- 
dently not  have  employed  an  ambiguous  expression.  In 
fact,  his  substance  has  extension  and  thought  only,  but  it 
has  them  in  infinite  degree. 

Let  us  point  out  another  difficulty.  Spinoza  holds  that 
God  has  neither  intelligence  nor  will ;  yet  he  attributes 
thought  to  him,  and  speaks  of  the  infinite  intelligence  of 
God.  These  two  assertions  seem  to  contradict  each  other 
flatly.  But  we  must  remember  that  according  to  Jewish 
and  Catholic  theology  (and  Descartes  himself),  God  has 
not  discursive  understanding,  which  needs  reasoning  and 
analysis  in  order  to  arrive  at  its  ends  ;  they  attribute  to  him 
intuitive  understanding,  the  t'oO?  TroirjrLKO'i  of  Aristotle.  We 
must  remember,  above  all,  tliat  Spinoza's  God  is  not  the 
"  author  of  nature,"  but  nature  itself.  Now  there  is  indeed 
reason  in  nature,  but  it  is  unconscious.  Tlie  spider  weaves 
its  web  without  the  sliglitest  notion  of  geometry ;  the  ani- 
mal organism  develops  without  having  the  faintest  concep- 
tion of  physiology  and  anatomy.  Natui'e  thinks  Avithout 
thinking  that  it  thinks ;  its  thought  is  unconscious,  an 
instinct,  a  wonderful  foresight  which  is  superior  to  intelli- 
gence, but  not  intelligence  proper.     By  distinguishing  be 

1  Letters  LXVI.  and  LXVH. 


SPINOZA  333 

^ween  cogitatio  and  inteUecins,'^  Spinoza  foreshadows  the 
Leibnizian  distinction  between  perception  and  apperceptio7i, 
or  conscious  perception. 

As  compared  with  Cartesianism,  Spinozistic  metaphysics 
has  the  merit  of  having  realized  that  thought  and  extension 
do  not  necessarily  presuppose  two  opposite  substances.    Its 
fruitfid  notion  of  their  consubstantiality  anticipates   the 
concrete  spiritualism  of  Leibniz.     The  assertion  that  one 
and  the  same  substance  may  be  both  the  subject  of  thought 
and  the  subject  of  extension  is,  as  Leibniz  aptly  says,  neither 
materialism  nor  idealism  in  the  narrow  sense  of  these  terms  ; 
it  combines  the  truths  contained  in  these  extreme  theories 
into  a  higher  synthesis.     It  is  not  materialism ;  for  Spinoza 
does  not  hold  that  thought  is  an  effect  of  movement,  or  to 
use  his  own  terminology,  a  "  mode  of  extension."     Each 
attribute,  being  infinite  and  absolute  after  its  hind,  can  be 
explained  by  itself  alone.     Hence,  thought  cannot  be  ex- 
plained by  matter  and  movement  (by  this  thesis  he  wards 
off  materialism) ;  nor  can  extension  and  movement,  i.  e., 
matter,  be  the  product  of  thought  (by  this  thesis  he  wards 
off  the  idealism  of  Malebranche).     But  though  thought  and 
extension  exclude  each  other  in  so  far  as  they  are  attributes, 
they  belong  to  the  same  substance ;  conceived  thus,  mind 
and  matter  are  the  same  thing  (eadem  res)?     These  "  attri- 
butes of  substance  "  are  not  dependent  on  each  other ;  mat- 
ter is  not  superior  and  anterior  to  mind,  nor  does  thought 
in  any  way  excel  extension ;  one  has  as  much  worth  as  the 
other,  since  each  is,  in  the  last  analysis,  the  substance  itself. 
This  identity  of  sul)stance,  unrecognized  by  Descartes,  ex- 
plains tlie  agreement  l)etween  the  movements  of  the  body 
and  the  "movements"  of  tlie  soul  in  man  and  in  animals. 
Since  one  and  tlie  same  svdjstance  and,  wliat  is  still  more 
important,  one  and  the  same  being  manifests  itself  in  the 
physical  ordei-  ;ind  in  the  intellectual  order,  this  snl)stance, 

1  Elh.,  I.,  Prop.  :'.l.  2  /'/.,  If-,  l'i"i>.  7,  Scholium. 


334  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

this  being,  manifests  itself  in  both  spheres  according  to  the 
same  hiws,  and  the  two  realms  are  parallel :  ordo  idearum 
idem  est  ac  ordo  rerum.^ 

3.    Theory  of  Modes 

The  modifications  of  extension  are  motion  and  rest ;  the 
modifications  of  thought  are  intellect  and  will.  Movement, 
intellect,  and  will,  i.  e.,  the  entire  relative  world  (iiatura 
7iaturata)  are  modes  or  modifications  of  substance,  or,  what 
amounts  to  the  same,  of  its  attributes.  These  modes  are 
infinite,  like  the  attributes  which  they  modify.  Movement, 
intellect,  and  will,  the  physical  universe  and  the  intellectual 
universe,  have  neither  beginning  nor  end.  Each  one  of  the 
infinite  modes  constitutes  an  infinite  series  of  finite  modes. 
Movement,  i.  e.,  infinitely-modified  extension,  produces  the 
infinitude  of  finite  modes  which  we  call  bodies ;  intellect 
and  will,  becoming  infinitely  diversified,  produce  particular 
and  finite  minds,  intellects,  and  wills.  Bodies  and  minds 
(ideas)  are  neither  relative  substances,  which  would  be  a 
contradiction  m  adjecto,  nor  infinite  modes,  but  changing 
modes  or  modifications  of  the  cosmical  substance,  or,  what 
amounts  to  the  same,  of  its  attributes.^ 

By  distinguishing  between  infinite  modes  and  finite 
modes,  Spinoza  means  to  say  that  motion  is  eternal,  while 
the  corporeal  forms  which  it  constitutes  originate  and  decay, 
—  that  intellects  and  wills  have  existed  for  eternities,  but 
that  each  particular  intellect  has  a  limited  duration.  Bodies 
or  limited  extensions  are  to  infinite  extension,  particular  in- 
tellects to  the  infinite  intellect,  and  the  particular  wills  to 
the  eternal  will,  what  our  thoughts  are  to  our  soul.  Just  as 
these  exist  only  for  the  soul,  of  which  they  are  temporary 
modifications,  so  too  this  soul,  like  the  bod}-,  exists  only  for 
the  substance,  of  which  it  is  a  momentary  modification. 
Compared  with  God,  souls  and  bodies  are  no  more  sub- 

1  Eth.,  II.,  Prop.  7.  2  i^i/e,.  LXXI. 


SPINOZA  S35 

stances  than  our  ideas  are  beings  apart  from  ourselves.  In 
strictly  philosophical  language,  there  is  only  one  substan- 
tive; everj'thing  else  is  but  an  adjective.  The  substance 
is  the  absolute,  eternal,  and  necessary  cause  of  itself ;  the 
mode  is  contingent,  passing,  relative,  and  merely  possible. 
The  substance  is  necessary,  i.  e.,  it  exists  because  it  exists ; 
the  mode  is  contingent  and  merely  possible,  i.  e.,  it  exists 
because  something  else  exists,  and  it  may  be  conceived  as 
not  existing. 

In  view  of  this  opposition  between  immutable  substance 
and  modes,  we  may  ask  ourselves  the  question :  How  much 
reality  do  modes  possess  in  Spinoza's  system  ?  A  mode  is 
inconceivable  without  a  subject  or  a  substance  that  is  modi- 
fied. Now,  the  substance  is  unchangeable,  it  cannot  be 
modified ;  hence  the  mode  is  nothing ;  movement,  change, 
the  cosmic  process,  particular  beings,  individuals,  bodies, 
souls,  the  natura  naturata,  in  a  word,  have  no  real  exist- 
ence. Still  this  conclusion,  which  Parmenides  and  Zeno 
drew,  is  not  Spinoza's.  On  the  contrary,  he  declares  with 
Heraclitus  that  motion  is  co-eternal  with  substance  ;  he 
makes  an  infinite  mode  of  it.  Unmindful  of  the  principle 
of  contradiction,  but  supported  ])y  experience,  he  affirms 
botli  the  immutability  and  the  perpetual  change  of  being. 
In  this  conflict  between  reasoning  and  the  evidence  of  facts, 
wliich  is  as  old  as  metaphysics,  he  deserves  credit  for  not 
sacrificing  thought  to  reality,  or  experience  to  reason.  But 
he  tries  to  smooth  over  the  difficulty ;  he  does  not  perceive, 
or  does  not  wish  to  perceive,  the  antinoni}^,  leaving  it  to 
modern  speculation  to  point  it  out  and  to  resolve  it. 

The  human  soul,  like  all  intellectual  modes,  is  a  modifi- 
cation of  infinite  tliought,  the  hiiinaii  body  a  modification 
of  infinite  extension.  Since  the  intelU'ctual  or  ideal  oi-dcr 
and  tlio  real  or  corporeal  order  are  parallel,  every  soul  cor- 
responds to  a  ])ody,  and  every  body  corrcsjjonds  io  an  idea. 
Tlie  mind  is  Ihercfon;  tlie  conscious  image  of  (lie  l)o(ly  i^idea 


336  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

corporis).^  Not  that  the  mind  is  the  body  becoming  con- 
scious of  itself ;  the  body  cannot  be  the  conscious  subject, 
for  thought  cannot  come  from  extension,  nor  extension  from 
thought.  Spinoza,  like  Descartes,  regards  body  as  merely 
extended,  and  soul  as  merely  thought.  But  the  body  is  the 
ohjed  of  thought  or  of  soul,  and  there  can  be  no  thought, 
apperception,  or  soul,  without  a  body.  The  mind  does  not 
know  itself,  it  is  not  idea  mentis  except  in  so  far  as  it  is 
idea  corporis  or  rather  idea  affectionivm  corporis?' 

Sensation  is  a  bodily  phenomenon  ;  it  is  a  prerogative  of 
animal  and  human  bodies,  and  results  from  the  superior 
organization  of  these  bodies.  PercejDtion,  on  the  other 
hand,  is  a  mental  fact :  simultaneously  as  the  body  is 
affected  by  an  excitation  the  mind  creates  an  image  or  idea 
of  this  excitation.  The  simultaneity  of  these  two  states  is 
explained,  as  we  have  said,  by  the  identity  of  the  mental 
and  bodily  substance.  The  mind  is  always  what  the  body 
is,  and  a  well-formed  soul  necessarily  corresponds  to  a  Avell- 
organized  brain.^  By  the  same  law  (the  identity  of  the 
ideal  and  the  real  orders),  intellectual  development  runs 
parallel  with  physical  development.  Bodily  sensations  are 
at  first  confused  and  uncertain  ;  to  these  confused  mochfi- 
cations  of  the  imperfect  organism  correspond  confused  and 
inadequate  ideas  of  the  imagination^  the  source  of  prejudice, 
illusion,  and  error :  this  makes  us  believe  in  general  ideas 
existing  independently  of  individuals,  in  fuial  causes  pre- 
siding over  the  creation  of  things,  in  incorporeal  spirits,  in 
a  divinity  with  human  form  and  human  passions,  in  free- 
will and  other  idols.^ 

1  Etl.,  IL,  Prop.  13. 

~  Id.,  Prop.  23  :  Mem  seipsam  nan  cognoscit  nisi  quatenus  corporix 
ajfectiomim  ideas  percipit.  The  reader  will  observe  that  Spinoza  does  not 
say  :  corporis  affectiones,  but  rather :  corporis  affectionum  ideas  per- 
cipit ;  so  greatly  is  his  psychology  still  influenced  by  Cartesian  dualism. 

3  Eth.,  III.,  Prop.  2,  Scholium. 

*  Eth.,  II.,  Prop.  36  ;  Piop.  40,  Scholium ;  Prop.  48 ;  HI.,  Prop.  2, 
Scholium. 


SPINOZA  337 

It  is  characteristic  of  reason  to  conceive  adequate  and 
perfect  ideas,  that  is  to  sa}-,  such  as  embrace  both  the  ob- 
ject and  its  causes.  The  criterion  of  truth  is  truth  itself 
and  the  evidence  peculiar  to  it.  He  who  has  a  true  idea, 
at  the  same  time  knows  that  he  has  a  true  idea,  and  cannot 
doubt  it.i  To  the  objection  that  fanaticism  too  is  convinced 
of  its  truth  and  excludes  uncertainty  and  doubt,  Spinoza 
answers  that  the  absence  of  doubt  is  not,  as  yet,  positive 
certainty.  Truth  is  true  in  itself ;  it  does  not  depend  on 
any  argument  for  its  truth ;  if  it  did,  it  would  be  subject  to 
that ;  it  is  its  own  standard.  Even  as  light  reveals  both 
itself  and  darkness,  so  is  truth  the  criterion  both  of  itself 
and  of  error.2 

The  imagination  represents  things  as  they  are  in  relation 
to  us ;  i-eason  conceives  them  from  the  standpoint  of  the 
whole  in  which  they  are  produced,  and  in  their  relation  to 
the  universe.  The  imagination  makes  man  the  centre  of 
the  world,  and  what  is  human  the  measure  of  all  things : 
reason  rises  beyond  the  self ;  it  contemplates  the  universal 
and  eternal,  and  refers  all  things  to  God.  All  ideas  are  true 
in  so  far  as  they  are  referred  to  God,^  that  is,  whose  objects 
are  conceived  as  modes  of  the  infinite  Being.  It  is  also 
characteristic  of  reason  that  it  rejects  the  notion  of  con- 
tingency, and  conceives  the  concatenation  of  things  as 
necessary.  The  idea  of  contingency,  like  so  many  other 
inadequate  ideas,  is  a  product  of  the  imagination,  and  is 
entertained  by  such  as  are  ignorant  of  the  real  causes  and 
tlie  necessary  connection  of  facts.  Necessity  is  the  first 
postulate  of  reason,  the  watchword  of  true  science.*  The 
imagination  loses  itself  in  the  details  of  phenomena  ;  reason 
grasps  their  unity  ;  unity  and  consubstantialit}-,  —  that  is 
the  second  postulate  of  reason.     Finally,  it  rejects,  as  pro- 

i  a;///.,  n.,  Trop.  4:].  '•^  /'/..  n.,  Srli,,lium. 

8   Id.,  II.,  I'n^p.  :tJ.  •»   A/.,  I.,  rn.p.  L"^. 

22 


338  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

ducts  of  the  imagination,  final  causes  and  universals  con- 
sidered as  realities. 

The  only  universal  that  really  exists  and  is  at  the  same 
time  the  highest  object  of  reason,  is  God,  or  the  infinite  and 
necessary  substance  of  which  everything  else  is  but  an  acci- 
dent. According  to  Spinoza,  reason  can  form  an  adequate 
idea  of  him,  but  not  the  imagination. ^ 

The  will  or  active  faculty  is  not  essentially  different 
from  the  understanding.^  It  is  nothing  but  a  tendency  of 
reason  to  retain  ideas  agreeable  to  it,  and  to  reject  such  as 
are  distasteful.  A  volition  is  an  idea  that  affirms  or  negates 
itself. 

Will  and  intellect  being  identical  in  their  essence,  it  fol- 
lows that  the  development  of  the  one  runs  parallel  with 
that  of  the  other.  Corresponding  to  the  imagination, 
which  represents  things  according  to  our  impressions,  we 
have,  in  the  practical  sphere,  passion,  or  the  instinctive 
movement  which  impels  us  towards  an  object  or  makes  us 
shrink  from  it.  When  what  the  imagination  shows  us,  is 
of  such  a  nature  as  to  give  our  physical  and  moral  life  a 
greater  intensity ;  or,  in  other  words,  when  a  thing  is  agree- 
able and  we  strive  for  it,  this  wholly  elementary  form  of 
willing  is  called  desire,  love,  joy,  or  pleasure.  In  the  oppo- 
site case,  it  is  called  aversion,  hatred,  fear,  or  grief. 

To  the  higher  understanding  corresponds,  in  the  prac- 
tical sphere,  the  will  proper,  that  is,  the  will  enlight- 
ened by  reason,  and  determined,  not  by  what  is  agreeable, 
but  by  what  is  true.  Not  until  it  reaches  this  stage 
can  the  will,  which  is  quite  passive  in  the  state  of 
instinct,  be  called  an  active  faculty.  We  act,  in  the 
philosophical  sense,  when  anything  happens  either  within 
us  or  outside  of  us,  of  which  we  are  the  adequate  cause 

1  Eth.,  II.,  Prop.  47  and  Scholium. 

^  Id.,  II.,  Prop.  49,  Corollary :  Voluntas  et  intellectus  unum  el  idem 
sunt. 


SPINOZA  339 

(adcequata),  that  is,  when  anything  follows  from  our  nature 
within  us  or  outside  of  us,  which  can  be  clearly  and  dis- 
tinctly understood  through  our  nature  alone.  On  the 
other  hand,  we  are  passive  when  something  happens  within 
us  or  follows  from  our  nature,  of  which  we  are  but  the 
partial  cause. ^  To  be  passive  or  to  be  acted  upon  does  not, 
therefore,  mean  not  to  act  at  all,  but  to  be  limited  in  one's 
activity.  We  are  passive  in  so  far  as  we  are  a  part  of  the 
universe,  or  modes  of  the  divine  being.  God  or  the  uni- 
verse, by  the  very  fact  that  he  is  unlimited,  cannot  be 
passive.     He  is  pu.re  action,  absolute  activity. 

However  active  man  may  seem  in  his  passions,  he  is 
really  passive  in  the  proper  and  primar}^  sense  of  the  term : 
i.  e.,  limited,  impotent,  or  the  slave  of  things.  He  can  be 
made  free  and  become  active  onl}^  through  the  understand- 
ing. To  understand  the  universe  is  to  be  delivered  from 
it.  To  understand  everything  is  to  be  absolutely  free. 
Passion  ceases  to  be  a  passion  as  soon  as  we  form  a  clear 
idea  of  it.^  Hence,  freedom  is  found  in  thought  and  in 
thought  alone.  Thought,  too,  is  relatively  passive  in  so 
far  as  it  is  limited  by  the  imagination,  but  it  can  free 
itself  from  this  yoke  by  sustained  application  and  persistent 
effort.  Since  freedom  is  found  only  in  tliought,  our  knowl- 
edge of  things  is  the  measure  of  our  morality.  That  is 
morally  good  which  is  conducive  to  the  understanding ; 
that  is  bad  which  landers  and  diminishes  it.^ 

Virtue  is  the  power  of  the  understanding ;  or,  still  better, 
it  is  man's  nature  in  so  far  as  this  has  the  power  of  pro- 
ducing certain  effects  which  can  be  exj)lained  by  the  laws 
of  that  nature  alone.*  To  be  virtuous  is  to  be  strong,  or 
to  act;  to  be  vicious  is  to  be  weak,  or  passive.  From  this 
point  of  view,  not  only  hatred,  anger,  and  envy,  but  also 

1  Eih.,  III.,  IXf.  2.  2  /,/.,  iii^  Prop.  59;  V.,  Prop.  3. 

«  Elh  ,  IV.,  Props.  20  iind  27.     Cf.  §  14. 
*  Id.,  IV.,  Def.  8. 


340  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

fear,  hope,  and  even  pity  and  repentance,  must  be  reckoned 
among  the  vices.  Hope  is  accompanied  by  a  feeling  of 
fear,  pity  and  sympathy,  by  a  feeling  of  pain,  that  is  to 
say,  by  a  diminution  of  our  being,  by  a  weakening  of  our 
energy.  Repentance  is  doubly  bad ;  for  he  who  regrets  is 
weak  and  is  conscious  of  his  weakness.  The  man  who 
orders  liis  life  according  to  the  dictates  of  reason  will 
therefore  labor  with  all  his  might  to  rise  above  pity  and 
vain  regrets.  He  will  help  his  neighbor  as  well  as  im- 
prove himself,  but  he  will  do  it  in  the  name  of  reason. 
Thus  will  he  be  truly  active,  truly  brave,  and  truly  virtu- 
ous (in  the  original  sense  of  the  Latin  word).  He  will  be 
brave,  for  he  will  not  let  himself  be  conquered  either  by 
human  miseries  or  his  own  mistakes,  and  he  will  not  let 
himself  be  vanquished,  because  he  knows  that  all  things 
follow  from  the  necessity  of  God's  natui'c. 

For  the  pliilosopher,  who  is  convinced  of  the  necessity 
of  human  actions,  nothing  merits  hatred,  derision,  con- 
tempt, or  pity.i  From  his  absolute  standpoint  of  reason, 
even  the  crimes  of  a  Nero  are  neither  good  nor  bad,  but 
simply  necessary  acts.  Determinism  makes  the  philoso- 
pher optimistic,  and  raises  him,  by  gradual  stages  of  per- 
fection, to  that  disinterested  love  of  nature  which  gives 
everything  its  value  in  the  whole  of  things,  to  that  amor 
intellectuals  Dei,  or  pliilosophical  love  of  nature,  which  is 
the  summit  of  virtue.  This  sentiment  differs  essentially 
from  the  love  of  God  of  positive  religions.  The  latter  has 
for  its  object  a  fictitious  being,  and  corresponds  to  the  ele- 
mentary stage  of  understanding  called  opinion  or  imagina- 
tion. Since  the  God  of  the  imagination  is  an  individual,  a 
person  like  ourselves,  and  like  every  living  and  real  per- 
son, possesses  feelings  of  love,  anger,  and  jealousy,  our 
love  for  him  is  a  particularistic  feeling,  a  mixture  of  love 
and  fear,  of  happiness  and  restless  jealousy ;  and  the  hai> 

^  Tractalu:^  poUticus,  T.,  4. 


SPINOZA  341 

piness  whicli  it  procures  for  us  is  still  far  removed  from 
the  perfect  blessedness  to  wliicli  we  aspii^e. 

The  philosophical  love  of  God,  on  the  other  hand,  is  an 
absolutely  disinterested  feeling ;  its  object  is  not  an  indi- 
vidual who  acts  arbitrarily  and  from  whom  we  expect 
favors,  but  a  being  superior  to  love  and  to  hate.  This  God 
does  not  love  like  men ;  for  to  love  is  to  feel  pleasure,  and 
to  feel  pleasure  is  to  pass  from  less  to  greater  perfection ; 
now  the  infinitely  perfect  being  cannot  be  augmented.^ 
Hatred  likewise  is  foreign  to  him,  since  to  hate  is  to  be 
passive,  and  to  be  passive  is  to  be  diminished  in  one's 
being,  which  cannot  be  the  case  with  God.  Conversely, 
the  hatred  which  some  men  entertain  towards  God,  and 
their  complaints  against  him,  are  possible  only  from  the 
standpoint  of  the  imagination,  which  conceives  God  as  a 
person  acting  arbitrarily.  We  hate  persons  only ;  we  can- 
not therefore  really  hate  God,  conceived  as  the  necessary 
order  of  things,  as  the  eternal  and  involuntary  cause  of 
eveiything  that  exists.  The  philosopher  cannot  help  lov- 
ing God ;  at  least,  he  cannot  but  feel  perfectly  contented, 
peaceful,  and  resigned  in  contemplating  him.  This  com- 
plete acquiescence  of  the  thinker  in  the  supreme  law,  this 
reconciliation  of  the  soul  with  the  necessities  of  life,  this 
entire  devotion  to  the  nature  of  things,  —  is  what  Spinoza, 
by  accommodation,  without  doubt,  calls  the  intellectual 
love  of  God,2  the  source  of  eternal  happiness. 

In  this  peculiar  feeling,  the  difference  between  God  and 
the  soul,  or  substance  and  mode,  is  obliterated ;  the  loved 
object  becomes  the  loving  subject,  and  conversely.  The 
intellectual  love  of  man  towards  God  is  identical  with  the 
love  of  God  towards  himself.^  Owing  to  this  "  trans- 
formation of  natures,"  the  human  soul,  which  is  perishable 
in  so  far  as  its  functions  are  connected  with  the  life  of  the 

1  Elh.,  v.,  Prop.  17.  -  Id.,  V.,  Prop.  iiL',  Corollary. 

8  Id.,  \.,  Prop.  ;iG. 


342  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

body,^  is  immortal  in  its  divine  i^art,  the  intellect.  By  the 
immortality  of  the  soul  we  mean,  not  so  much  the  infinite 
duration  of  the  person  ^  as  the  consciousness  that  its  sub- 
stance is  eternal.  The  certainty  that  the  substance  of  our 
personality  is  imperishable,  because  it  is  God,  banishes 
from  the  soul  of  the  philosopher  all  fear  of  death,  and  fills 
him  with  an  unmixed  joy. 

Let  us  sum  up.  Substance  is  that  which  exists  by  itself 
and  by  itself  alone.  Hence  neither  bodies  nor  minds  can 
be  called  substances  ;  for  both  exist  by  virtue  of  the  divine 
activity.  God  alone  exists  by  himself  and  by  himself  alone  : 
hence  there  is  but  one  absolutely  infinite  substance.  This 
substance  or  God  has  two  relatively  infinite  attributes  : 
extension  and  thought.  Extension  is  modified,  and  forms 
bodies ;  thought  is  infinitely  diversified,  and  forms  minds. 
Such  is  the  metaphysics  of  Spinoza.  Necessity  and  joyful 
resignation :  these  two  words  sum  up  his  ethical  teachings. 

We  have  shown  in  what  respect  Spinozism  advances  be- 
yond the  Cartesian  philosophj^  By  making  mind  and  mat- 
ter, soul  and  body,  manifestations  of  a  common  principle,  it 
destroys  the  dualism  of  a  physical  universe,  absolutely  di- 
vested of  all  ideal  content,  and  an  exclusively  intellectual 
order  of  things,  a  world  of  abstract,  incorporeal  entities, 
which  are  as  different  from  the  real  cosmos  as  the  latter  is 
supposed  to  be  from  the  realm  of  pure  thought.  The  uni- 
verse is  one.  True,  it  contains  two  elements  that  are  eter- 
nally distinct  and  cannot  be  explained  in  terms  of  each  other: 
matter  and  thought ;  but  these  two  elements,  although  dis- 
tinct, are  inseparable  because  they  are  not  substances,  but 
attributes  of  one  and  the  same  substance.  Every  movement, 
or,  in  other  words,  every  modification  of  infinite  extension, 
has  an  idea,  i.  e.,  a  modification  of  infinite  thought,  corre- 
sponding to  it ;  and  vice  versa  :  every  idea  has  as  its  necessary 
accompaniment  a  corresponding  fact  in  the  physiological 
1  Eth.,  v.,  Prop.  21.  2  id^^  v.,  Prop.  34,  SchoHum. 


LEIBNIZ  343 

order.  Thought  is  not  without  matter,  nor  matter  without 
thought.  Spinozism  points  out  the  intimate  correhition  be- 
tween the  two  elements  of  being,  but  guards  against  iden- 
tifying them,  as  materialism  and  idealism  do,  from  opposite 
points  of  view. 

But  this  gain  is  counterbalanced  by  a  difficulty  which, 
seems  to  make  for  Cartesian  dualism.  Spinoza  holds  that 
one  and  the  same  thing  (substance)  is  both  extended  and 
tliinking,  that  is,  inextended ;  hence,  he  flagrantly  violates 
the  law  of  contradiction.  True,  he  anticipates  this  objec- 
tion by  declaring,  in  opposition  to  Descartes,  that  corporeal 
substance  is  no  more  divisible,  in  so  far  as  it  is  substance, 
than  spiritual  substance  ;  ^  and  so  prepares  the  way  for  the 
Leibnizian  solution.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  he  goes  right 
on  calling  corporeal  substance  extended  (res  extensa)?  Now, 
indivisible  extension  is  a  contradiction  in  terms. 

It  was  left  to  Leibniz  to  prove  that  there  is  nothing  con- 
tradictory in  the  assumption  that  one  and  the  same  thing 
can  be  hoih  the  principle  of  thought  and  the  principle  of 
corporeal  existence.  He  proclaimed  the  truth  which  is  now 
accepted  as  a  fundamental  principle  in  physics,  that  the 
essence  of  matter  does  not  consist  in  extension,  but  in  for^e, 
and  thereby  turned  the  scales  in  favor  of  concrete  spiritual- 
ism. It  is  a  contradiction  to  hold  that  the  same  thing  is 
both  extended  and  inextended ;  it  is  not  a  contradiction  to 
say  that  the  same  thing  is  force  and  thought,  perception 
and  tendency. 

§  56.     Leibniz 

The  life  of  Gottfried  Wjlhelm  Leibniz,  like  his  doc- 
trine, forms  the  counterpart  of  Spinoza's.  The  illustrious 
Jew  of  Amsterdam  was  poor,  neglected,  and  persecuted  even 

^  Elh.,  I.,  Prop.  13,  Corollary:  Ex  hix  .leqiiilur  inillnm  suhstnntia)ii  ct 
consequcnter  nullam  suhxtdutidin  corpoream,  quatcnus  subxtanlia  est,  esse 
divisihilem. 

^  Tfl.,\l,  Prop.  2. 


344  MODEKN  PHILOSOPHY 

to  his  dying  day,  wliile  Leibniz  knew  only  the  bright  side 
of  life.  Most  liberally  endowed  with  all  the  gifts  of  nature 
and  of  fortune,  and  as  eager  for  titles  and  honors  as  for 
knowledge  and  truth,  he  had  a  brilliant  career  as  a  jurist, 
diplomat,  and  universal  savant.  His  remarkable  success  is 
reflected  in  the  motto  of  his  theodicy :  Everything  is  for  the 
lest  in  the  best  of  possible  worlds.  He  was  born  at  Leipsic  in 
1646,  and  died  on  the  14th  of  November,  1716,  as  Librarian 
and  Court  Counsellor  of  the  Duke  of  Hanover,  Privy  Coun- 
sellor, Imperial  Baron,  etc.,  etc. 

His  principal  pliilosopliical  writings  are:  Meditationes  de 
cognitione,  veritate  et  ideis  (3684);  Zcttres  sur  la  question  si 
I'essenee  du  corps  consiste  dans  Vetendue  (in  the  Journal  des 
savants,  16Q1) ;  Nouveaux  essais  sur  Ventendement  humain 
(in  reply  to  Locke's  Essay)  ;  Essais  de  Theodicce  sur  la  honte 
de  Dieu,  la  lihertS  de  lliomine  et  Vorigine  du  mal  (1710),  dedi- 
cated to  Queen  Sophia  Charlotte  of  Prussia ;  Za  monado- 
logie  (1714)  ;  Principes  de  la  nature  et  de  la  grdce.fondes  en 
Q^aison  (1714) ;  fuially,  his  Correspondence?- 

^  His  writings,  most  of  which  are  brief,  have  been  collected  and 
edited  by  Raspe  (Amsterdam  and  Leipsic,  1765)  ;  Louis  Dutens  (Ge- 
neva, 1768)  ;  J.  E.  Erdmann,  Berlin,  1840 ;  Foucher  de  Careil  ((Euvres 
de  Leihniz,  published  for  the  first  time  after  the  original  manuscripts, 
Paris,  1859  ff.)  ;  Paul  Janet  (2  vols.,  Paris,  1866,  with  the  correspond- 
ence of  Leibniz  and  Arnauld);  [C.  J.  Gerhardt,  Philosophical  writings 
of  Leibniz,  7  vols.,  Berlin,  1875-90.  German  writings  ed.  by  G.  E. 
Guhrauer,  Berlin,  1838-40.  Engl,  translation  of  important  philosophi- 
cal writings  by  G.  M.  Duncan,  New  Haven,  1890 ;  of  the  New  Essaya, 
by  A.  G.  Langley,  London  and  New  York,  1893].  [G.  E.  Guhrauer, 
G.  W.  Freih.  v.  Leihniz,  2  vols.,  Breslau,  1842,  1846;  Engl,  by  Mackie, 
Boston,  1845 ;  Ludwig  Feuerbach,  Darstellumj,  Entwickelung  und  Kritik 
der  leibnizschen  Philosophie,  Ansbach,  1837  ;  2d  ed.,  1844];  Nourrisson, 
LapMosophie  de  Leibniz,  Paris,  1860 ;  [J. T.  ISIerz,  Leihniz(m  Blackwood's 
Philosophical  Classics),  London,  1884 ;  J.  Dewey,  Leibniz's  New  Essays 
concerning  the  Human  Understanding  (Griggs's  Philosophical  Classics), 
Chicago,  1888;  E.  Dillmann,  Eine  neue  Darstelhmg  der  leibnizschen 
Monadenlehre,  Leipsic,  1891.]     For  the  Leibnizian  doctrme  of  matter 


LEIBNIZ  345 

Leibniz  opposes  to  the  dualism  of  extended  or  unconsci- 
ous substance  and  inextended  or  conscious  substance  his 
theory  of  monads  or  inextended  and  7nore  or  leas  conscious 
substances.  It  seems  that  he  derived  the  expression  and  the 
conception  from  Bruno's  De  monade  and  Dc  triplici  minimo  ^ 
(1591). 

Both  the  physical  and  mental  realms  contain  a  series 
of  plienomena  which  do  not  depend  exclusively  either  on 
thouo-ht  or  on  extension.  If  the  mind  is  conscious  thousfht 
and  nothing  but  that,  how  shall  Ave  explain  the  countless 
mimite  perceptions  (^p)^^^c(^pt^ons  p)ctites')  ^  whicli  baffle  all  ana 
lysis,  those  vague  and  confused  feelings  which  cannot  be 
classified,  in  short,  everything  in  the  soul  of  which  we  are 
not  conscious  ?  ^  The  soul  has  states  during  which  its  per- 
ceptions are  not  distinct,  as  in  a  profound,  dreamless  sleep, 
or  in  a  swoon.  During  these  states  the  soul  either  does  not 
exist  at  all,  or  it  exists  in  a  manner  analogous  to  the  body, 
that  is,  without  consciousness  of  self.  Hence  there  is  in 
the  soul  something  other  than  conscious  thought :  it  con- 
tains an  unconscious  element,  which  forms  a  connecting 
link  between  the  soul  and  the  physical  world.^ 

and  monads  see  Hartenstein,  Commentatio  de  materkti  apud  Leibnizium 
nutione,  Leipsic,  1846 ;  for  his  theodicy,  J.  Bonifas,  Etude  sur  la  The'o- 
dice'e  de  Ledmiz,  Paris,  1863  ;  for  his  doctrine  of  pre-established  har- 
mony, Hugo  Sommer,  De  doctrina  quam  de  harm,  praest.  L.  proposuit, 
Gottingen,  186-1;  etc.,  etc.  [Cf.  also:  Foucher  de  Careil,  Leibniz, 
Descartes  et  Spinoza,  Paris,  1863  ;  E.  Pfleiderer,  Leibniz  und  Geulincx, 
Tubingen,  1881;  L.  Stein,  Leibniz  und  Spinoza,  YtGi-Ww,  18!X);  G.  Har- 
tenstein, Locke's  Lehre  von  der  merischlichen  Erkenntniss  in  Vergleichnnfj 
mil  Leibniz's  Krilik  dnselben,  Leipsic,  1.S61;  Frank  1'hilly,  Leibnizens 
Slreit  gegen  Locke  in  Ansehung  der  angeborenen  Ideen,  Heidelberg,  1891 ; 
and  especially  K.  Fischer's  History  of  Philosophg.  — Tu.] 

*  [According  to  L.  Stein  (Leibniz  und  Spinoza),  from  F.  Mercurius 
van  Ilelmont.  —  Tu.] 

2  Nouveaux  Essais,  Preface.  *  lifonaddhigic,  §11. 

*  Nouveaux  Essais,  Book  IT.,  cli.  IX.  and  XIX.;  Principes  dehi  na- 
ture et  de  la  grdce,  §  4. 


346  MODERN   THILOSOPHY 

Moreover,  what  are  attraction,  repulsion,  heat,  and  light, 
if  matter  is  inert  extension,  and  nothing  but  that  ?  Cartesi- 
anism  can  neither  deny  nor  explain  these  facts.  Consist- 
ency demands  that  it  boldly  deny,  on  the  one  hand,  the 
existence  of  order  and  life  in  the  corporeal  world,  on  the 
other,  the  presence  in  the  soul  of  all  ideas,  sensations,  and 
volitions  which  temporarily  sink  below  the  threshold  of 
consciousness  and  attention,  and  reappear  at  the  slightest 
inner  or  outer  solicitation.  It  must  unhesitatingly  affirm 
that  there  is  nothing  inextended  in  the  material  world,  and 
nothing  unconscious  in  the  spiritual  world.  But  that  would 
be  to  fly  in  the  face  of  facts,  and  to  assert  an  absurdity.  No  ; 
extension,  as  the  Cartesians  conceive  it,  cannot  of  itself  ex- 
plain sensible  phenomena.  It  is  synonymous  with  passivity, 
inertia,  and  death,  while  everything  in  nature  is  action, 
movement,  and  life.  Hence,  unless  we  propose  to  explain 
life  by  death,  and  being  by  non-being,  we  must  of  necessity 
suppose  that  the  essence  of  body  consists  of  something  dif- 
ferent from  extension. 

And,  indeed,  does  not  the  state  of  extension,  which  con- 
stitutes the  nature  of  body,  presuppose  an  effort  or  force 
that  extends  itself,  a  power  both  of  resistance  and  expan- 
sion? Matter  is  essentially  resistance,  and  resistance 
means  activity.  Behind  the  (extended)  state  there  is  the 
act  which  constantly  produces  it,  renews  it  (extension).  A 
large  body  moves  with  more  difficulty  than  a  small  body ; 
this  is  because  the  larger  body  has  greater  power  of  resist- 
ance. What  seems  to  be  inertia,  or  a  lack  of  power,  is  in 
reality  more  intense  action,  a  more  considerable  effort. 
Hence,  the  essence  of  corporeality  is  not  extension,  but  the 
force  of  extension,  or  active  force. ^  Cartesian  physics  deals 
with  inert  masses  and  lifeless  bodies  only,  and  is  therefore 
identical  with  mechanics  and  geometry  ;  but  nature  can  be 

1  Lettre  sur  la  question  de  savoir  si  Vessence  du  corps  consists  dans 
Vetendue  (ed.  Erdmann,  p.  113), 


LEIBNIZ  .  347 

explained  only  by  a  metaphysical  notion  that  is  higher  than 
a  purely  mathematical  and  mechanical  notion;  and  even 
the  principles  of  mechanics,  that  is,  the  first  laws  of  mo- 
tion, have  a  higher  origin  than  that  of  pure  mathematics.^ 
Tliis  higher  notion  is  the  idea  of  Force.  It  is  this  power 
of  resistance  that  constitutes  the  essence  of  matter.  As  to 
extension,  it  is  nothing  hut  an  abstraction ;  it  presupposes 
something  that  is  extended.,  expanded.,  and  continued.  Ex- 
tension is  the  diffusion  of  this  "  something."  Milk,  for 
example,  is  an  extension  or  diffusion  of  whiteness;  the 
diamond,  an  extension  or  diffusion  of  hardness ;  body  in 
general,  the  extension  of  materiality.  Hence,  it  is  plain 
that  there  is  something  in  the  body  anterior  to  extension  ^ 
(the  force  of  extension).  True  metaphysics  does  not  recog- 
nize the  useless  and  inactive  masses  of  which  the  Car- 
tesians speak.  There  is  action  everywhere.  No  hodij 
without  movement,  no  substance  loithout  effort.^ 

Only  the  effects  of  force  are  perceptible ;  in  itself  it  is 
an  insensible  and  immaterial  thing.  Now  force  constitutes 
tlie  essence  of  matter;  hence  matter  is  in  reality  imma- 
terial in  its  essence.  This  paradox,  Avhich  is  also  found  in 
Leiljniz,  Bruno,  and  PlotiniLS,  in  principle  overcomes  the 
dualism  of  the  physical  and  mental  worlds.  Though  force 
forms  the  essence  of  that  which  is  extended,  it  is  itself 
inextended;  it  is  therefore  indivisible  and  simple;  it  is 
original ;  for  composite  tilings  alone  are  derived  and  have 
become  what  they  are ;  finally,  it  is  indestructible,  for  a 
simple  substance  cannot  be  decomposed.  A  miracle  alone 
could  destroy  it. 

Tims  far  Leibniz  speaks  of  force  as  Spinoza  speaks  of 

^  Leitre  sur  la  rjueslimi  tie  savoir  si  V essence  dn  corps  consiste  dans 
Vetendue  (ed.  Enliiiami,  p.  IK?). 

2  Exurncn  des  principes  de  Mnlehranche  (Knlmaiiii,  p.  002). 

'  Eclaircissement  du  nouueau  syst^me  de  la  communication  des  suh- 
stances,  p.  i;J2. 


348  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

substance,  and  there  seems  to  be  merely  a  verbal  difference 
between  him  and  his  predecessor.  But  here  their  paths 
diverge.  Spinoza's  "  substance  "  is  infinite  and  unique ; 
Leibniz's  "  force  "  is  neither  one  nor  the  other.  If  there 
were  but  one  single  substance  in  the  world,  this  one 
substance  would  also  be  the  only  force  ;  it  alone  would  be 
able  to  act  by  itself,  and  everything  else  would  be  inert, 
powerless,  passive,  or  rather,  would  not  exist  at  all.  Now, 
the  reverse  is  actually  true.  We  find  that  minds  act  by 
themselves,  with  the  consciousness  of  their  individual 
responsibility ;  we  likewise  find  that  every  body  resists  all 
other  bodies,  and  consequently  constitutes  a  separate  force. 
Shall  we  say,  in  favor  of  Spinozism,  that  the  indwelling 
forces  of  things  are  so  many  parts  of  the  one  force?  But 
that  cannot  be,  since  force  is  essentially  indivisible.  By 
denying  the  infinite  diversity  of  individual  forces,  the 
abstract  monism  of  Spinoza  reverses  the  very  nature  of  things^ 
and  becomes  a  pernicious  doctrine}  Where  there  is  action 
there  is  active  force ;  now  there  is  action  in  all  things ; 
each  constitutes  a  separate  centre  of  activity ;  hence  there 
are  as  many  simple,  indivisible,  and  original  forces  as  there 
are  things. 

These  original  forces  or  monads  may  be  compared  to 
physical  points  or  to  mathematical  points ;  but  they  differ 
from  the  former  in  that  they  have  no  extension,  and  from 
the  latter,  in  that  they  are  objective  realities.  Leibniz 
calls  them  metaphysical  points  or  points  of  substance  ^  (they 
are  both  exact,  like  mathematical  points,  and  real,  like 
physical  points*),  formal  p)oints,  formal  atoms,  substantial 
forms  (in  scholastic  language),  to  indicate  that  each  con- 
stitutes an  individual,  independent  of  all  the  other  monads, 
acting  of  itself  and  depending  only  on  itself  in  form, 
character,  and  entire  mode  of  life. 

1  De  ipsa  natura,  sive  de  vi  ins'ita  actionibusque  creaturarum,   §  8 
Cf.  Lettre  11.  d,  M.  Bourguel. 

2  Nouveau  systeme  de  la  nature,  §  11. 


LEIBNIZ  349 

Whatever  happens  in  the  monad  comes  from  it  alone  ; 
no  external  cause  can  produce  modiiications  in  it.  Since 
it  is  endowed  with  spontaneous  activity,  and  receives  no 
influence  from  without,  it  differs  from  all  other  monads, 
and  differs  from  them  forever.  It  cannot  be  identified  with 
anytliing ;  it  eternally  remains  what  it  is  {priiicipiuiii  clis- 
tinctionis).  It  has  no  ivindotvs  hj  ivhich  anything  can  enter 
or  pass  out.^  Since  each  monad  differs  from  and  excludes 
all  the  rest,  it  is  "  like  a'  separate  world,  self-sufficient, 
independent  of  every  other  creature,  embracing  the  infinite, 
expressing  the  universe."  ^  It  follows  that  two  individual 
things  cannot  be  perfectly  alike  in  the  world. 

But  here  a  serious  objection  arises.  If  each  monad  con- 
stitutes a  separate  world,  independent  of  all  other  beings  ; 
if  none  has  "  windows  "  by  which  anything  can  enter  or 
dej)art;  if  there  is  not  the  slightest  reciprocal  action  be- 
tween individuals,  —  what  becomes  of  the  universe  and  its 
unity  ?  Spinoza  sacrificed  the  reality  of  individuals  to  the 
principle  of  unity ;  does  not  Leibniz  go  to  the  other  ex- 
treme? Are  there  not,  according  to  his  assumption,  as 
many  universes  as  there  are  atoms?  This  difficulty,  which 
necessarily  confronts  all  atomistic  theories,  Leibniz  circum- 
vents rather  than  solves.  lie  has  broken  up,  shattered, 
and  pulverized  the  monolithic  universe  of  Spinoza :  how  will 
he  l)e  able  to  cement  these  infinitesimal  fragments  together 
again,  to  reconstruct  the  ev  kuI  vdv? 

He  finds  the  synthetic  principle  in  the  analogy  of  monads 
and  in  the  notion  of  pre-estahlished  harmony.  Though  each 
monad  differs  from  all  the  rest,  there  is  an  analogy  and  a 
family  resemblance,  so  to  speak,  between  them.  They 
resemble  each  other  in  that  all  are  endowed  with  ^jcrcc^> 

^  Afonft'Iolog'te,  §  7. 

2  Nouveau  syslhne  de  la  nature,  §  KJ.  [I  have  in  many  instances 
used  Duncan's  translations,  making  sucli  changes  as  1  dccnied  proper. 
_Tk.] 


350  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

tion  and  desire  or  a2y2^etition,  —  Schopenhauer  would  say, 
will.  Those  on  the  lower  stages  in  the  scale  of  things,  as 
well  as  the  highest  and  most  perfect  monads,  are  forces, 
entelechies,  and  souls}  Souls  alone  exist,  and  that  which 
we  call  extension  or  body  is  nothing  but  a  confused  per- 
cej)tion,  a  phenomenon,  a  sensible  manifestation  of  effort, 
that  is  to  say,  of  the  immaterial.  Thus  the  dualism  of 
soulless  matter  and  denaturized  mind  is  forever  overcome. 
"  Whatever  there  is  of  good  in  the  hypotheses  of  Epicurus 
and  of  Plato,  of  the  greatest  materialists  and  the  greatest 
idealists,  is  here  combined."  ^  Matter  signifies  a  relation,  a 
negative  relation ;  it  does  not  express  a  mode  of  the 
monad's  positive  being,  as  the  negative  expression  impetie- 
trable  very  well  indicates;  thought  ([)erception)  and  tend- 
ency (appetition)  are  positive  attributes,  permanent  modes 
of  being,  not  only  of  the  higher  monads  but  of  all  without 
exception.  Leibniz  emphatically  maintains  that  perception 
is  universal,^  and  answers  the  objection  that  beings  inferior 
to  man  do  not  tJiinJc,  by  the  statement  that  "there  are 
infinite  degrees  of  perception,  and  perception  is  not  neces- 
sarily sensation."  *  The  more  the  Cartesians  persisted  in 
denying  all  analogy  between  human  thought  and  the  mental 
phenomena  in  animals,  the  more  he  inclined  towards  this 
paradoxical  conception.  The  perceptions  of  lower  beings 
ai-e  infinitely  minute,  confused,  and  unconscious ;  those  of 
man  are  clear  and  conscious :  that  is  the  entire  difference 
between  soul  and  mind,  perception  and  appercejytioti. 

The  perceptions  of  the  monad  do  not,  it  is  true,  extend 
beyond  itself.  Having  no  "windows  by  which  anything 
can  enter  or  depart,"  it  can  only  perceive  itself.     We  our- 

1  Blonadolof/ie,  §§  19,  66,  82. 

2  Re'plique  aux  reflexions  de  Bayle,  p.  186. 

^  Ad   Des   Bosses   Epist.    111. :    Necesse   est   omnes   enielechias  sive 
monades  perceptione  prcediias  esse. 
*  Lettre  a  M.  des  Maizeaux. 


LEIBNIZ  351 

selves,  the  higher  monads,  do  not  perceive  anything  except 
our  own  being,  and  that  alone  we  know  immediately.  The 
real  world  is  wholly  inaccessible  to  us,  and  the  so-called 
world  is  merely  the  involuntary  projection  of  what  takes 
place  within  ourselves.  If,  notwithstanding,  we  know 
what  takes  place  outside  of  us,  if  we  have  an  (indirect)  per- 
ception of  the  external  world,  it  is  because  we  are,  like  all 
monads,  representatives  of  the  universe,  and  because,  con- 
sequently, that  which  takes  place  in  us  is  the  reproduction 
in  miniature  of  that  which  takes  place  on  the  large  scale  in 
the  macrocosm.  Since  the  monad  directly  perceives  itself 
alone  and  its  own  contents,  it  follows  that  the  more  ade- 
quate an  image  it  is  itself,  the  more  complete  will  its  per- 
ception of  the  universe  be.  The  better  a  monad  represents 
the  universe,  the  better  it  represents  itself.  If  the  Imman 
soul  lias  a  clear  and  distinct  idea  of  the  world,  it  is  because 
it  is  a  more  exact  and  more  faithful  image  {idea)  of  the 
universe  than  the  soul  of  the  animal  and  the  soul  of  the 
plant.i 

All  monads  represent  and  perceive,  or,  in  a  word,  rei)ro- 
duce  the  universe,  but  they  reproduce  it  in  different  degrees, 
and  each  in  its  own  way.  In  other  terms,  there  is  a  grada- 
tion in  the  perfection  of  the  monads.  In  the  hierarchy  thus 
formed,  the  most  perfect  monads  rule,  the  less  perfect  ones 
o])ey.  Accordingly,  we  must  distinguish  between  physical 
individuals,  such  as  nature  offers,  and  the  metaphysical  in- 
dividuals or  monads  composing  them.  A  plant  or  an  animal 
is  not  a  monad  and  individual  in  the  metaphysical  sense, 
but  a  comljination  of  monads,  of  which  one  rules  and  the 
otliers  obey.  The  central  monad  is  \\hat  is  called  tlie  soul 
of  tlie  plant,  animal,  or  man;  the  subordinate  monads 
grouped  around  it  form  what  we  call  body.     "  Each  living 

1  Replique  aux  reflexions  de  Bayle,  ]>.  IS  I  ;  Munadologle,  §§  50-02  ; 
Principes  de  la  ualure  el  de  Id  fjruce,  §  -i. 


352  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

being,"  as  Leibniz  expressly  states,^  "  has  a  ruling  entel- 
echy,  which  is  the  soul  in  the  animal,  hut  the  memoers  of 
this  living  body  are  full  of  other  living  beings,  —  plants, 
animals,  —  each  of  which  has  also  its  entelechy  or  govern- 
ing soul."  "  Each  monad,"  he  also  says,^  "  is  a  mirror  of 
the  universe,  from  its  point  of  view,  and  accompanied  by  a 
multitude  of  other  monads  composing  its  organic  body,  of 
which  it  is  the  ruling  monad."  ^ 

However,  by  virtue  of  the  autonomy  of  the  monads,  this 
dominating  influence  of  the  central  monad  is  purely  ideal ; 
the  latter  does  not  really  act  upon  the  governed  monads.* 
The  obedience  of  the  governed  monads  is,  in  turn,  quite 
spontaneous.  They  do  not  subordinate  themselves  to  the 
ruling  monad  because  this  forces  them  to  do  so,  but  because 
their  own  nature  compels  them  to  do  it.^  In  the  formation  of 
organisms,  the  lower  monads  group  themselves  around  the 
more  perfect  monads,  wliich,  in  turn,  spontaneously  group 
themselves  around  the  central  monad.  This  process  might 
be  compared  to  the  construction  of  a  temple  in  which  the 
columns  spontaneously  put  themselves  in  the  desired  place, 
with  the  capital  pointing  upwards  and  the  pedestal  at  the 
bottom.  An  inorganic  body,  a  rock,  or  a  liquid  mass  is 
likewise  an  aggregation  of  monads,  but  witliout  a  ruling 
monad.  Such  bodies  are  not  inanimate  ;  for  each  of  the 
monads  composing  them  is  both  soul  and  body ;  but  they 
seem  inanimate  because  their  constitutive  monads,  being 
of  like  nature,  do  not  obey  a  governing  monad,  but  hold 
themselves  in  equilibrium,  so  to  speak. 

After  these  preliminaries,  we  expect  Leibniz  to  solve  the 

1  Monadologle,  §  70.  ^  Lettre  a  M.  Dangicourf,  p.  746. 

8  Extrait  d'une  lettre  a  M.  Dangicoiirt,  p.  746 ;  Monadologie,  §  70. 

*  Monadologie,  §  51. 

5  Ad  Des  Bosses  Epist.  XXX.  :  Substantia  agit  quantum  potest,  nisi 
impediatur:  impeditur  autem  etiam  substantia  simplex,  sed  naturaliter  non 
riisi  intus  a  se  ipsa. 


LEIBNIZ  353 

problem  of  the  reciprocal  action  of  soul  and  body  in  the 
simplest  and  easiest  manner.  Thought  and  extension  are 
not  substances  which  repel  and  exclude  each  other,  but  dif- 
ferent attributes  of  one  and  the  same  substance.  Hence, 
notliing  seems  more  natural  than  to  assume  a  direct  con- 
nection between  intellectual  phenomena  and  the  facts  of 
the  physiological  world.  That  is  not  the  case,  however, 
and  the  metaphysics  of  Leibniz  finds  itself  as  powerless  as 
Cartesianisn  before  this  important  problem.  The  connec- 
tion just  mentioned  would  be  perfectly  apparent  if  the 
human  individual  were  a  single  monad,  having  as  its  im- 
material essence  the  soul,  and  as  its  sensible  manifestation, 
the  body.  If  by  body  we  meant  the  material  element  in- 
herine-  in  the  central  monad  (for  it  must  be  remembered 
that  each  monad,  and  consequently  also  the  central  monad 
or  the  liighest  soul,  is  both  soul  and  body),  notliing  would 
be  more  proper  than  to  speak  of  a  mutual  action  between 
soul  and  body.  But,  as  we  have  just  shown,  the  physical 
individual  is  not  an  isolated  monad,  but  a  central  monad 
surrounded  by  other  monads,  and  it  is  the  latter,  or  tliis 
group  of  subordinate  souls,  which,  strictly  speaking,  con- 
stitute the  body  of  the  individual.  Now,  the  monads  have 
no  windows ;  witliin  one  and  the  same  monad,  the  ruling 
monad,  for  example,  there  may  and  must  be  a  causal  rela- 
tion between  its  successive  states;  such  a  relation,  how- 
ever, is  impossible  between  two  different  monads. 

Hence  a  real  and  direct  action  of  the  dominant  monad 
upon  the  subordinate  monad,  or  of  soul  upon  body,  is  as 
impossible  in  Leibniz's  system  as  in  that  of  Descartes. 
Tills  action  is  merely  apparent.  In  sensation  the  soul 
seems  to  suffer  the  influence  of  the  body,  and  the  parts  of 
tlie  T)ody,  in  turn,  move  as  thougli  their  movements  were 
determined  by  tlie  volitions  of  the  soul.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  neither  one  imr  1h(;  (.thor  is  affected  by  something  ex- 
ternal to  it.     No  soul  state,  no  volition,  for  example,  can 

S8 


354  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

"  penetrate  "  the  monads  constituting  the  body ;  hence  the 
soul  does  not  act  directly  upon  the  body  ;  our  arms  are  not 
moved  by  an  act  of  will.  Nothing  in  the  body  can  "  pene- 
trate "  the  dominant  monad :  hence,  no  impressions  enter 
the  soul  through  the  senses,  but  all  our  ideas  are  innate. 
Body  and  soul  seem  to  act  on  each  other  ;  the  former  moves 
when  the  latter  wills  it,  the  latter  perceives  and  conceives 
when  the  former  receives  a  physical  impression,  and  this  is 
due  to  a  i^re-estahlished  harmony,  owing  to  which  the  monads 
constituting  the  body  and  the  ruling  monad  necessarily 
agree,  just  as  two  perfectly  regulated  clocks  always  show 
the  same  time.^ 

The  theory  of  pre-established  harmony  differs  from  the 
occasionalistic  system  in  an  important  point.  The  latter 
assumes  a  special  divine  intervention  every  time  the  soul 
and  the  physical  organism  are  to  agree.  God  regulates  the 
soul  by  the  body  or  the  body  by  the  volitions  of  the  soul,  as 
a  watchmaker  constantly  regulates  one  clock  by  the  other. 
According  to  Leibniz,  the  harmony  between  the  movements 
of  the  body  and  the  states  of  the  soul  is  the  effect  of  the 
Creator's  perfect  work,  as  the  perpetual  agreement  between 
two  well-constructed  watches  results  from  the  skill  of  the 
mechanic  who  has  constructed  them.  Those  who  assume 
that  the  Creator  constantly  intervenes  in  his  work,  regard 
God  as  an  unskilful  watchmaker,  who  cannot  make  a  per- 
fect machine,  but  must  continually  repair  what  he  has 
made.  Not  only  does  God  not  intervene  at  every  moment, 
but  he  never  intervenes.  "  Mr.  Newton  and  his  followers," 
says  Leibniz,^  ''  have  a  curious  opinion  of  God  and  his  work. 
According  to  them,  God  must  wind  up  his  watch  from  time 
to  time  ;  otherwise  it  would  cease  to  move.  He  had  not 
sufficient  insight   to  make   it   run   forever.      Nay,  God's 

1  Second  eclaircissemenf  du  systeme  de  la  communication  des  substances, 
pp.  133-134. 

*  Lettre  a  Clarke,  p.  746. 


LEIBNIZ 


365 


machine  is  so  imperfect,  according  to  them,  that  he  is 
obliged  to  clean  it,  from  time  to  time,  by  an  extraordinary 
concourse,  and  even  to  repair  it  as  a  watchmaker  repairs 
his  work  ;  the  oftener  he  is  obliged  to  mend  it  and  to  set  it 
right,  the  poorer  a  mechanic  he  is."  ..."  According  to 
my  system,  bodies  act  as  if  there  were  no  souls,  and  souls 
act  as  if  there  were  no  bocUes,  and  both  act  as  if  each  influ- 
enced the  other."  ^ 

Perhaps,^  from  the  theological  point  of  view,  Leibniz's 
theory  of  pre-established  harmony  is  preferable  to  the  hy- 
pothesis of  the  assistance  or  perpetual  concourse  of  God, 
but  it  does  not  satisfy  the  curiositij  of  the  philosopher  any 
more  than  does  the  Cartesian  theory.  To  say  that  body  and 
soul  agree  in  their  respective  states  by  virtue  of  a  pre-estab- 
lished harmony  is  to  say  that  a  thing  is  because  it  is.  Leib- 
niz conceals  his  ignorance  behind  a  science  that  rises  above 
all  the  theories  of  the  past.  When  we  consider  how  ex- 
travagantly Leibniz's  friends  and  Leibniz  himself  eulogized 
his  system,  we  hardly  know  what  to  wonder  at  most,  the 
delusion  of  our  philosopher  or  the  simplicity  of  his  ad- 
mirers. 

We  have  found,  with  Leibniz,  that  monads  reflect  the 
universe  in  different  degrees  ;  that  some  monads  reflect  it 
better  than  others.  This  pre-supposes  the  existence  of  a 
lowest  monad,  which  reproduces  the  universe  in  the  most 
elementary  manner  possible,  and  a  highest  monad,  which 
expresses  it  in  a  perfect  manner  :  a  positive  and  a  superla- 
tive.    Between  these  two  extremes  we  have  an  iniinite 

^  Monadologie,  §  81. 

2  We  say  perhaps ;  for  tlie  o1)j<'cti()n  may  l>e  urged  against  Leibniz 
that  tlie  pfTpetual  miracle  of  the  Cartesians  is  not  a  miracle  in  the 
sense  that  the  natural  course  of  things  is  violently  interrupted,  and 
that  it  is  not  a  miracle' precisely  because  it  is  perpetual.  From  this 
point  of  view,  pre-esta])lished  harmony,  a  miracle  i-frfurnicd  once  for 
all,  at  the  beginning  of  things,  is  a  concept i.ni  plilldsopiiically  inferior 
to  the  Cartesian  hypothesis. 


356  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

chain  of  intermediate  monads.  Each  intermediate  monad 
forms  a  different  point,  and,  consequently,  a  different  j^oint 
of  view,  on  the  line  connecting  the  extremes  ;  each,  as  such, 
differs  from  all  the  rest.  But  the  monads  are  infuiite  in 
number.  Hence  we  have  on  tlie  ideal  line  between  the 
lowest  and  the  highest  monad,  i.  e.,  on  a  line  that  is  limited 
on  all  sides  and  is  not  infinite,  an  infinity  of  different  points 
of  view.  Fiom  this  it  follows  that  the  distances  separating 
these  points  of  view  are  infinitely  small,  that  the  difference 
between  two  adjacent  monads  is  imperceptible  (discrimen 
indiscernible). 

The  'principle  of  continuity'^  removes  the  gaps  which 
are  supposed  to  exist  between  the  mineral  and  vegeta- 
ble kingdoms,  and  the  vegetable  and  animal  kingdoms.^ 
There  are  no  gaps,  no  absolute  oppositions  in  nature  ;  rest 
is  an  infinitely  minute  movement ;  darkness,  infinitely 
little  light;  the  parabola,  an  ellipse  one  of  whose  foci  is 
infinitely  distant ;  perception  in  the  plant,  an  infinitely  con- 
fused thought.^  This  conception  bridges  the  chasm  which 
the  Cartesians  made  between  brutes  and  man.  Brutes  are 
merely  imperfect  men,  plants  imperfect  animals.  Leibniz 
does  not,  however,  regard  man  as  a  product  of  evolution. 
Far  from  it.  Each  monad  remains  eternally  what  it  is,  and 
the  soul  of  the  plant  cannot  therefore  be  transformed  into 
an  animal  soul,  nor  an  animal  soul  into  a  human  soul.  But 
his  doctrine  of  the  pre-existence  of  monads,  and  his  teach- 
ing that  they  develop  indefinitely,  logically  culminate  in 
the  theory  of  transformation.  "  I  recognize,"  he  writes  * 
to  Des  Maizeaux,^  "  that  not  onl}^  the  souls  of  brutes,  but 
all  monads  or  simple  substances  from  which  the  composite 
phenomena  are  derived  are  as  old  as  the  world ; "  and  a 

1  Tht'odicee,  §  348.  2  i^ff^e  IV.  a  M.  Bourguet. 

'  Noureaux  exaah.  Preface.  *  Erdmann's  edition,  p.  676. 

^  The  biographer  of  Bayle  and  editor  of  his  Dictionnaire  historique 
et  critique. 


LEIBNIZ  357 

few  lines  above  he  says :  ''  I  believe  that  the  souls  of  men 
have  pre-existed,  not  as  reasonable  souls  hut  as  merely  sensi- 
tive souls,  wliich  did  not  reach  the  superior  stage  of  reason 
until  the  man  whom  the  soul  was  to  animate  was  conceived." 
The  view  that  man  pre-existed  in  the  animal  could  not  be 
stated  with  greater  clearness.  It  even  seems  as  though 
Leibniz's  "  souls  "  pre-exist  in  the  inorganic  world,  like  so 
many  germs.  In  its  state  of  pre-existence,  he  saj^s,  in  sub- 
stance, the  monad  which  is  to  become  a  soul  is  ahsolutely 
7iaked,^  or  without  a  bod}- ;  that  is  to  say,  it  is  not  sur- 
rounded by  that  group  of  subordinate  monads  which  will 
form  its  organs,  and,  consequently,  exists  in  a  kind  of  un- 
conscious state.  Hence,  the  monads  destined  to  become 
either  animal  or  human  souls  wholly  resemble  inanimate 
bodies,  from  the  beginning  of  the  world  until  they  are  in- 
corporated. 

The  passage  of  the  monads  into  Ixxlies  (incarnation)  can- 
not be  conceived  as  a  metempsychosis  or  a  metasomatosis, 
if  we  mean  by  these  two  terms  the  introduction  of  the  soul 
into  a  body  formed  without  its  assistance.  Nor  can  future 
life  be  considered  in  such  a  light.  By  virtue  of  the  law  of 
pi'e-establislied  harmony,  the  development  of  the  soul  runs 
parallel  with  that  of  the  body,  and  althougli  there  is  no  real 
and  immediate  communion  Ijctween  the  central  monad  and 
the  subordinate  monads  constituting  its  body,  there  is  an 
ideal  correlation  between  the  latter  and  the  soul.  With  the 
reservation  made  above,^  it  is  correct  to  call  the  soul  the 
architect  of  the  body.  A  soul  cannot  give  itself  any  body 
whatsoever,  nor  can  any  Ijody  serve  as  its  organ.^  Each 
soul  has  its  body.  But  though  there  is  no  metempsychosis, 
i.  e.,  no  passage  of  souls  into  bodies  already  foiincd,  there 

'  Manndologiey  §  24. 
2  p.  :}r,2. 

•  This  expression  can  only  he  nsfd  in  a  figurative  sense  by  Lcil>niz 
for  there  is  no  actiuil  relation  between  body  and  soul. 


358  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

is  metainorphosis,  and  perpetual  metamorpliosis.i  The  soul 
changes  its  body  only  gradually  and  by  degrees. 2  Owing 
to  the  principle  of  continuity,  nature  never  makes  leaps, 
but  there  are  insensible  transitions  everywhere  and  in 
everything. 

Future  life  cannot  be  incorporeal.  Human  souls  and 
all  other  souls  are  never  without  bodies ;  God  alone,  being 
pure  action,  is  wholly  without  body.  Since  the  central 
monad  is  "  primitive  "  like  all  monads,  it  cannot  be  created 
ex  nihilo  upon  its  entrance  into  actual  life,  nor  annihilated 
at  its  departure.  "  What  Ave  call  generation  is  development 
or  increase ;  what  we  call  death  is  envelopment  and  dim- 
inution. Strictly  speaking,  there  is  neither  generation  nor 
death,  and  it  may  be  said,  that  not  only  is  the  soul  inde- 
structible, but  also  the  animal  itself,  although  its  machine 
is  often  partially"  destroyed."  ^  As  regards  rational  souls, 
it  may  be  assumed  that  they  will  pass  "  to  a  grander  scene 
of  action  "  at  the  close  of  their  present  life.  Moreover,  their 
immortality  is  not  the  result  of  a  i3articular  divine  favor  or 
a  privilege  of  human  nature,  but  a  metaphysical  necessity, 
a  universal  phenomenon  embracing  all  the  realms  of  nature. 
Just  as  each  monad  is  as  old  as  the  world,  so,  too,  each  one 
"  is  as  durable,  as  stable,  and  as  absolute  as  the  universe  of 
creatures  itself."^  The  plant  and  the  grub  are  no  less 
eternal  than  man,  the  angels,  and  the  archangels.^  Death 
is  but  a  turning-point  in  the  eternal  life,  a  stage  in  the 
never-ending  development  of  the  monad. 

1  Principes  de  la  nature  et  de  la  grace,  §  6. 

2  Monadologie,  §  72.  «  Id.,  §§  73,  77. 

*  Nouveau  aystbne  de  la  nature,  §  16. 

*  Ad  Wagnerian,  p.  467:  Qui  hrutis  animas,aliisque  mater  ice  partibus 
omnem  perceptionem  et  organismum  negant,  illi  divinain  majestatem  non 
satis  agnoscunt,  iniroducentes  aliqidd  indignum  Deo  et  incultum,  nempe 
vacuum  metaphysicum  .  .  .  Qui  vero  animas  veras  perceptionemque  dant 
hrutis,  et  tamen  animas  eorum  naturaliter  perire  posse  statuunt,  etiam  de- 
monstrationem  nobis  tollunt,  per  quam  ostenditur  mentes  Jiostras  naturaliter 
perire  non  posse. 


LEIBNIZ  359 

In  the  system  of  Leibniz  we  again  find  Spinoza's  ex- 
tended and  thinking  substance  ;  but  here  it  appears  as  the 
force  of  extension  and  perception,  and  is  multiplied  infin- 
itely. We  likewise  meet  liis  notion  of  mode  and  his  de- 
terminism, but  this  is  softened  by  the  doctrine  of  the 
substantiality  of  individuals.  In  spite  of  its  absolute 
identity,  the  monad  develops  continually.  Our  author 
takes  it  "  for  granted  that  every  being,  and  consequently 
the  created  monad  also,  is  subject  to  change,  and  even  that 
this  change  is  continual  in  each."^  The  soul,  like  the 
body,  is  in  a  state  of  change,  tendency,  and  appetition. 
This  perpetual  change  is  called  life.  Each  of  these  states 
composing  it  is  the  logical  consequence  of  the  preceding 
state  and  the  source  of  the  following  state.  "As  every 
present  state  of  a  simple  substance  is  naturally  a  conse- 
quence of  its  preceding  state,  so  its  present  is  big  with  the 
future."  2 

Hence,  freedom  of  indifference  is  out  of  the  question  in 
the  human  soul.  In  the  system  of  Leibniz,  each  substance 
or  monad  is  free  in  the  same  sense  as  Spinoza's  unitary  sub- 
stance ;  i.  e.,  it  is  not  determined  by  any  power  outside  of 
itself.  But  though  not  determined  from  without,  it  is  not 
on  that  account  independent  of  its  own  nature,  free  in 
reference  to  itself.  The  determinism  of  Leibniz  is  to  that 
of  Spinoza  what  the  determinism  of  St.  Thomas  is  to  the 
predestination  of  St.  Augustine.  It  allows  each  spirit  to  be 
"  as  it  were,  a  little  divinity  in  its  own  department,"  and 
so  softens  the  element  in  fatalism  whiih  is  objectiona1)le  to 
the  moral  sense,  without,  however,  ceasing  to  apply  the 
law  of  causality  and  the  principle  of  sufficient  reason  to 
botli  the  physical  and  moral  realms.  "•  1  am  very  far 
removed,"  lie  says,  '"•  from  accepting  the  views  of  Hrad- 
wardine,  Wiclif,  Hobbes,  and  Spinoza,  but  we  must  always 
bear  witness  to  tlie  truth,"-'  and   lliis  trutli  is  autcMiomous 

1  MoHudologie,  §  10.  ^  /,/.^  § -jl'.  «  T/icudicce,  !I. 


360  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

determinism :  nothing  determines  the  acts  of  the  soul  ex- 
cept the  soul  itself  and  its  preceding  acts. 

If  each  monad  is,  "  as  it  were,  a  little  divinity  in  its  own 
department,"  if  each  is  a  little  absolute,  what  is  the  highest 
Divinity,  the  real  absolute?  If  we  were  to  judge  from 
what  we  now  know  of  the  theory  of  monads,  we  should 
reply :  Leibniz  substitutes  for  the  monotheism  of  Descartes 
and  the  pantheism  of  Spinoza  a  kind  of  polytheism,  for  the 
monarchical  conception  of  the  universe,  a  kind  of  cosmical 
republic  governed  by  the  law  of  harmony.  But,  though  that 
may  be  his  secret  thought,  it  is  not  his  exoteric  doctrine. 
The  harmony  which  governs  the  universe  is  a  harmony 
pre-established  hij  God  :  it  is  not  itself  the  absolute.  The 
monads,  which  "  are  the  true  atoms  of  nature  and  the  ele- 
ments of  things,"  1  are  none  the  less  created.^  They  are 
indestructible,  but  a  miracle  can  destroy  them.^  That  is 
to  say,  they  are  neither  absolutely  primitive  and  eternal, 
nor,  in  a  word,  the  absolute ;  but  they  depend  on  a  divin- 
ity, "  the  primitive  unity  or  the  original  simple  substance, 
of  which  all  monads,  created  or  derived,  are  the  pro- 
ducts, and  are  born,  so  to  speak,  from  moment  to  moment, 
by  continual  fulgurations  of  the  Divinity."  *  Hence,  we 
have  created  monads  on  the  one  hand,  and  an  uncreated 
monad,  the  Monad  of  monads,  on  the  other ;  the  former  are 
finite  and  relative ;  the  latter  is  infinite  and  absolute. 

This  Monad  of  monads  is  not,  like  Bruno's,  the  universe 
itself  considered  as  infinite  ;  it  is  a  real  God,  that  is,  a  God 
distinct  from  the  universe.  Leibniz  proves  his  existence 
by  the  principle  of  sufficient  reason.  "  This  sufficient 
reason  for  the  existence  of  the  universe  cannot  be  found  in 
the  succession  of  contingent  things,  that  is,  of  bodies  and 
their  representations  in  souls  ;  because  matter  being  indif- 
ferent in  itself  to  motion  and  to  rest,  and  to  this  or  that 

1  Monad ologie,  §  3.  '^  Id.,  §  47. 

3  Id.,  §  6.  *  Id.,  §  47. 


LEIBXIZ  361 

motion,  we  cannot  find  the  reason  of  motion  in  it,  and  still 
less  of  a  particular  motion.  And  although  tlie  present 
motion  which  is  in  matter  comes  from  the  preceding  mo- 
tion, and  this,  in  turn,  from  one  preceding  it,  we  do  not 
advance  one  step  though  we  go  ever  so  far ;  for  the  same 
question  always  remains.  Thus,  it  is  necessary  that  the 
sufficient  reason,  which  has  no  further  need  of  another 
reason,  be  outside  of  this  series  of  contingent  tilings,  and 
be  found  in  a  substance  which  is  their  cause,  or  which  is  a 
necessary  being,  having  the  reason  of  its  existence  in  itself, 
otherwise  we  should  still  have  no  sufficient  reason  at  which 
to  stop.  And  this  ultimate  reason  of  things  is  called  God. 
This  simj)le  primitive  substance  must  contain  in  itself 
eminently  the  perfections  contained  in  the  derivative  sub- 
stances wliich  are  its  effects ;  hence  it  will  have  perfect 
power,  knowledge,  and  will,  that  is,  it  will  have  omnipo- 
tence, omniscience,  and  supreme  goodness."  ^  Although 
Leibniz  protests  against  anthropomorphism,  he  speaks  of 
God  as  having  "  chosen  the  best  possible  j^lan  in  creating  the 
universe,  .  .  .  and,  above  all,  the  laws  of  movement  best 
adjusted  and  most  conformable  to  abstract  or  metaphysical 
reasons."  .  .  .  Such,  for  example,  by  virtue  of  which  "  the 
same  quantity  of  total  and  absolute  force  is  always  pre- 
served in  it,"  and  that  other  law  by  virtue  of  which 
"  action  and  reaction  are  always  equal."  ^ 

The  difiiculty  confronting  the  Leibnizian  theology  is  the 
same  as  that  which  meets  Descartes.  The  latter  had  to 
confess  that  the  word  ''substance  "  when  apj)lied  to  God  has 
not  the  same  meaning  as  when  applied  to  the  creature,  and, 
consequently,  that  the  creature  is  not  a  substance  in  the 
true  sense :  a  statement  wliicli  occasioned  the  system  of 
Spinoza.  Leil^niz's  theology,  too,  seems  to  be  cauglit  on 
the  horns  of  a  dilemma :  Either  God  is  a  monad,  and  in  that 

'  Principes  de  la  nature  ef  <le  In  rjr/lce,  §§  8,  9. 
2  Id.,  §§  10,  11.     Cf.  Thtodicee,  III.,  §  315. 


362  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

case  finite  beings  are  not  monads  in  the  strict  sense  of  the 
term  (which  overthrows  the  monadology)  ;  or,  created  be- 
ings are  monads,  and  then  we  cannot  call  God  a  monad 
unless  we  identify  him  with  his  creatures.  But  the  pliant 
and  cautious  genius  of  a  Leibniz  turns  to  account  even  his 
defeats.  Though  the  idea  of  God  is  confused  and  contra- 
dictory for  our  intelligence,  it  is  not  so  in  itself.  The  fact 
that  we  are  confronted  with  insoluble  difficulties  in  contem- 
plating the  absolute,  simply  proves  that  the  human  soul  is 
not  the  Monad  of  monads,  —  that  it  occupies  a  distinguished 
but  not  the  highest  place  in  the  scale  of  substances.  Hence, 
it  must  follow  from  the  very  nature  of  things  that  we  can 
have  only  a  confused  notion  of  the  Supreme  Being.  Just 
as  the  plant  has  a  confused  perception  of  the  animal,  and 
the  animal  a  confused  perception  of  man,  so,  too,  man  has 
only  an  indistinct  perception  and  a  faint  inkling  of  higher 
beings  and  the  Supreme  Being.  In  order  to  have  an  ade- 
quate notion  of  God,  one  would  have  to  be  God,  and  the 
fact  that  we  have  no  such  notion  finds  its  natural  explana- 
tion in  the  transcendency  of  the  Supreme  Being.  God  is 
supernatural  or  transcendent  in  relation  to  man,  as  man  is 
a  supernatural  being  with  respect  to  animals,  the  animal  a 
supernatural  being  with  respect  to  plants,  and  so  on.  If 
we  mean  by  reason  the  human  understanding,  God  is  also 
supra-rational  in  so  far  as  he  surpasses  human  nature  (or  is 
supernatural) ;  that  is,  he  transcends  human  intelligence  as 
much  as  his  perfection  surpasses  ours. 

We  see  with  what  skill  the  philosopher  of  universal 
conciliation  acquits  himself  of  his  task  as  a  mediator  be- 
tween science  and  Christianity.  Unlike  the  English  phi- 
losophers, his  contemporaries,  who  in  true  nominalistic 
fashion  endeavor  to  separate  religion  and  philosophy,  he 
begins  the  work  of  St.  Anselm  and  St.  Thomas  all  over 
again  on  a  different  plan.  His  highest  ambition  is  to  form 
an  alliance  between  philosophy  and  faith,  and,  if  possible, 


LEIBNIZ  363 

between  Lutlieranism  and  Catholicism.  He  adopts  the 
motto  of  the  Schoohnen  :  Absolute  agreement  between  the 
dogmas  of  the  Church  and  human  reason. ^  He  antagonizes 
those  who  distinguish  between  pliilosopliical  truth  and  re- 
ligious truth,  —  a  distinction  which  saved  the  freethinkers 
of  the  Renaissance  from  anathema,  —  and  he  finds  fault 
wdth  Descartes  for  having  cleverly  evaded  the  discussion  of 
the  mysteries  of  faith,  as  though  one  could  hold  a  philos- 
ophy that  is  irreconcilable  with  religion,  or  as  though  a 
reliirion  could  be  true  that  contradicts  truths  otherwise 
proved.^ 

Behind  liis  seeming  orthodoxy,  however,  we  may  easily 
detect  the  traces  of  his  rationalism.  When  he  proclaims 
theism  he  does  so  in  the  name  of  philosophy ;  when  he 
affirms  the  supernatural  he  does  it  in  the  name  of  reason, 
and,  to  a  certain  extent,  by  means  of  rationalism.  He  is  so 
far  removed  from  assuming  the  absolute  transcendency  of 
the  divine  being,  as  to  hold  that  what  transcends  human 
reason  cannot  contradict  reason.  Like  the  ancient  School- 
men before  him,  he  continues  to  remind  us  that  whatever  is 
above  reason  is  not  therefore  against  reason,  that  whatever 
is  decidedly  contradictory  to  reason  cannot  be  true  in  reli- 
gion. By  virtue  of  the  law  of  universal  analogy,  there  must 
be  an  analogy,  an  agreement,  a  harmony,  between  divine 
reason  and  human  reason  ;  and  a  radical  opposition  between 
the  Creator  and  tlie  creature  is  not  conceivable.  Owing  to 
this  agreement,  man  naturally  possesses  faith  in  God  and  in 
the  immortality  of  tlie  soul,  these  two  central  doctrines  of 
all  religion ;  and  revelation  simply  helps  to  bring  out  the 

1  Xotliiiig  better  characterizes  the  essentially  scholastic  tendency 
of  Leibniz  than  the  followinff  title  of  one  of  his  last  compositions  :  The 
Principles  of  Nature  and  of  Grace,  Founded  on  Reason  (1711),  and  this 
other  title  ;  Discourse  on  the  Conformity  of  Faith  with  Reason  (Intro- 
duction to  the  Theodicy). 

2  De  vero  methodo philosophioi  et  Iheologiie,  p.  111. 


364  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

truths  whicli  have  been  implanted  in  the  human  mind  by 
the  Creator.  Christianity  is  evidently  reduced  to  the  narrow 
proportions  of  deism  in  the  system  of  Leibniz,  and  revela- 
tion becomes  a  mere  sanction  of  the  principles  of  natural 
religion. 

But,  how  could  a  thinker  who  held  that  souls  have  "  no 
windows  through  which  any  tiling  can  enter  or  pass  out " 
do  otherwise  than  favor  theological  rationalism ;  how  could 
he  seriously  declare  that  the  soul  is  enlightened  by  a  super- 
natural revelation  ?  How  could  the  man  who  laughed 
at  Newton  and  the  Cartesians  for  assuming  that  God  in- 
terferes with  the  world,  really  assume  a  special  interven- 
tion of  God  in  history?  If  we  believe  in  revelation,  we 
must  also  assume  that  God  has  given  or  can  give  to  the 
soul  the  means  of  communicating  with  the  external  world, 
or  windows,  to  use  Leibniz's  expression.  Now,  if  God  can 
give  windows  to  the  intelligent  monad,  then  it  is  not  con- 
trary to  its  nature  to  have  them,  —  then  it  can  have  them. 
Tliis  means  that  it  can  cease  to  be  an  absolutely  spontane- 
ous force  or  an  absolute  ruler  in  its  domain ;  it  means,  in  a 
word,  that  it  ceases  to  be  a  monad.  Leibniz  must  choose 
between  two  alternatives  :  he  must  either  accept  the  theory 
of  monads  and  pre-established  harmony,  which,  according 
to  his  explicit  declaration, ^  excludes  all  special  divine  in- 
tervention, or  abandon  his  system  in  favor  of  the  faith  of 
the  Church. 

The  author  of  the  Theodicy^  like  St.  Thomas,  subordinates 
the  will  of  God  to  the  divine  reason  and  its  eternal  laws. 
This  is  a  characteristic  trait  of  Leibnizian  rationalism,  and 
contrary  to  the  doctrines  of  Descartes  and  his  teachers,  the 
Scotists  and  the  Jesuits,  according  to  whom  not  only  meta- 
phj^sical  and  moral  truths,  but  even  mathematical  axioms, 
depend  on  the  divine  will.  "  It  must  not  be  imagined,"  he 
says,^  "  as  is  sometimes  done,  that  the  eternal  truths  which 

^  Principes  de  la  nature  et  de  la  grdce,  §  13.  ^  Monadologie,  §  46 


LEIBNIZ  365 

are  dependent  on  God  are  arbitrary  and  depend  on  liis  will, 
as  Descartes  and  afterward  M.  Poiret  ^  seem  to  have  be- 
lieved. .  .  .  Nothing  could  be  more  unreasonable.  .  .  .  For 
if  the  establishment  of  justice  (for  example)  happened  arbi- 
trarily and  without  reason,  if  God  hit  upon  it  haphazard, 
as  we  draw  lots,  then  his  goodness  and  wisdom  are  not 
revealed  in  it,  and  it  does  not  bind  him.  And  if  he  es- 
tablished or  made  what  we  call  justice  and  goodness  by  a 
purely  arbitrary  decree  and  without  reason,  he,  can  unmake 
thciii  and  chanye  their  nature,  so  that  we  have  no  reason  to 
suppose  that  he  will  observe  them  always.  ...  It  is  no 
more  contrary  to  reason  and  piety  to  say  (with  Spinoza) 
that  God  acts  Avithout  knowledge,  than  to  claim  that  his 
knowledge  does  not  find  the  eternal  rides  of  goodness  and  of 
justiee  among  its  objects  ;  or  finally,  that  he  has  a  will  which 
has  no  regard  for  these  rules."  ^ 

Hence,  the  God  of  Leibniz  is  not  like  an  Oriental  mon- 
arch ;  he  is  a  sovereign  bound  by  laws  which  he  cannot  un- 
make, a  kind  of  constitutional  king  and  chief  executive  of 
the  universe,  rather  than  the  all-powerful  autocrat  of  Ter- 
tullian  and  Duns  Scotus.  He  resembles  the  God  of  Mon- 
tesquieu, who  "  has  his  laws,"  rather  than  the  God  of  the 
indeterministic  theologians.  The  supreme  power  is  not 
the  will  of  God  taken  hy  itself,  but  his  will  governed  by  the 
eternal  laws  of  his  intelligence,  laws  which  determine  his 
conduct  without  constraining  him,  since  they  constitute  the 
very  essence  of  his  nature.  Instead  of  the  nature  of  God, 
Spinoza  simply  said  nature.  According  to  Leibniz,  the 
Supreme  Being  is  nature  manifesting  itself  through  the 

1  A  pastor  at  Ilamlmrg,  a  native  of  Metz  (1040-1710).  Against 
the  theory  of  innnte  ideas  of  his  sometime  teacher  Descartes,  and 
Locke's  theory  of  acquired  ideas,  he  sets  up  liis  mystical  tlicory  of  in- 
fused  ideas,  that  is,  ideas  communicated  by  an  inspiration  from  on  high 
{CEconomie  divine,  7  vols.,  Amsterdam,  1687  ;  etc.). 

2  Thtodice'e,  II.,  170-177. 


^QQ  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

medium  of  a  personal  will ;  according  to  Spinoza,  he  is  na- 
ture acting  without  such  a  medium ;  or,  if  we  choose,  an 
unconscious  will.  Hence,  both  thinkers  are  determinists, 
however  violently  Leibniz  may  protest  against  the  teachings 
of  the  Jew  of  Amsterdam. 

In  creating  things,  God  was  determined  by  his  infinite 
reason,  and  necessarily  created  the  best  possible  world. 
Evil  exists  only  in  the  details,  and  serves  to  enhance  the 
glory  of  the  good :  the  whole  is  supremely  perfect.  The 
Tlieodicy  deals  with  the  question  of  physical,  metaphysical, 
and  moral  evil,  and  aims  to  refute  those  who  regard  the  ex- 
istence of  evil  as  an  argument  against  Providence.  It  is  a 
popular  rather  than  a  scientific  book.  It  is  surprising  with 
what  familiarity  the  author  speaks  of  God,  just  as  though 
God  had  initiated  him  into  the  innermost  secrets  of  his 
nature.  How  can  Leibniz,  who  has  such  certain  knowledge 
that  God  is  not  the  free  author  of  the  natural  and  moral 
law  s,  that  his  will  depends  on  his  intelligence,  that  he  neces- 
sarily created  the  best  possible  world,  maintain  that  God  is 
supra-rational  ?  What  a  strange  procedure  !  First  he  rele- 
gates the  Being  of  Beings  to  the  domain  of  mystery,  like  so 
many  theologians,  and  then  he  defines  him,  describes  him, 
and  makes  out  a  complete  inventory  of  his  attributes,  as 
though  he  were  describing  a  plant  or  a  mineral.  For  this 
reason  as  well  as  on  account  of  his  attitude  towards  empir- 
icism, Leibniz,  whose  monadology  is  so  great,  so  original, 
and  so  modern,  still  belongs  to  the  tribe  of  the  Schoolmen. 

But  the  time  had  now  come  for  subjecting  ontology  to 
the  critical  sif ting-process.  The  controversy  between  Leib- 
niz and  the  Englishman  Locke  concerning  the  origin  of 
ideas  formed  the  prelude  to  an  important  epoch  in  the  his- 
tory of  modern  philosophy. 

In  view  of  his  principle  "  that  the  monad  has  no  w^in- 
dows,"  Leibniz  cannot  grant  that  our  knowledge  has  any 
other  source  than  the  soul  itself.     Nothing  can  enter  it; 


LEIBNIZ  367 

hence,  strictly  speaking,  tlie  direct  observation  of  external 
facts  or  experience  is  impossible.  Experience  through  the 
mecUum  of  the  senses  is  an  illusion ;  it  is,  in  realit}',  noth- 
ing but  confused  thought.  He  repeatedly  declares  that  the 
soul,  and  the  soul  alone,  is  both  the  subject  and  the  ob- 
ject of  sensation.  We  never  perceive  and  experience  any- 
thing but  ourselves.  Everything  in  the  mind  is  spontane- 
ous production,  thought,  oi-  speculation.  Whether  we  shall 
regard  our  thought  as  the  result  of  an  impression  from  with- 
out, or  as  the  product  of  the  mind  itself,  will  depend  on 
its  degree  of  clearness  or  confusion.  Thought,  however, 
though  autonomous,  is  not  arbitrary  and  free  from  law.  It 
obeys  the  sovereign  laws  of  contradiction  and  sufficient 
reason.  But  it  does  not  depend  on  anything  external  to 
the  thinking  monad,  around  which  the  principium  dis- 
tinctionis  rises  like  an  impassable  wall.  Leibniz  also 
declares,  in  answer  to  Locke's  denial  of  innate  ideas, ^ 
that  nothing  is  inborn  in  the  understanding  except  the 
understanding  itself,  and,  consequently,  the  germ  of  all 
our  ideas.'-^ 

The  difference  between  Leibniz  and  Locke  seems  very 
slight :  Locke  by  no  means  denies  the  innate  power  of  the 
mind  to  form  ideas,  while  Leibniz  grants  that  ideas  do  not 
pre-exist  in  the  mind  aetualhj  ;  they  exist  in  it  virtually,  as 
the  veins  in  a  block  of  marble  might  mark  the  outlines  of  a 
statue  to  be  made  from  it.  Now,  then,  either  the  ex})ression, 
virtual  or  potential  existence  of  ideas  in  the  mind,  has  no 
meaning,  or  it  is  s^-nonymous  with  power  (potent in,  rii'tus'), 
or  mental  faculty  of  forming  ideas,  a  faculty  wliich  Locke 
is  perfectly  willing  to  admit.  lUit  this  seemingly  insig- 
nilieant  controversy  really  represented   (he  opposition  l)c- 

*  Essay  concernrng  Human  Understanding,  cli.  I. 

2  Nouveaux  essais,  I'rcfaco  :  Nous  sommes  inncs  d  nous  memes  pour 
ainsi  dire ;  id.,  II.,  1  :  Nihil  est  in  intellectu  quod  nonfuerit  in  sensu,  ex- 
cipe :  nisi  ipse  intellectus. 


368  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

tween  the  Middle  Ages  and  modern  philosophy,  between  the 
speculative  method,  which  passes  from  conceptions  to  facts, 
and  the  positive  method,  which  passes  from  facts  to  concep- 
tions. Locke  does  not  merely  combat  the  idealistic  princi- 
ple ;  what  he  especially  antagonizes  is  the  idealistic  prejudice 
that  a  2Jriori  reasoning  relieves  the  philosopher  of  the  duty 
of  directly  observing  facts.  By  declaring  himself  against 
the  author  of  the  Essay  concerning  Human  Understanding^ 
Leibniz,  who  was  otherwise  more  profound  and  more  specu- 
lative than  his  opponent,  sided  with  the  School,  that  is,  with 
the  past  against  the  future. 

All  that  was  necessary  was  to  present  his  doctrines 
in  scholastic  form.  This  the  mathematician  Christian 
Wolff  1  proceeded  to  do.  The  Leibnizian  system  con- 
tained a  precious  gem :  the  conception  of  active  force, 
which  had  superseded  the  dualism  of  thought  and  exten- 
sion, and  this  treasure  was  lost  in  the  labored  attempts  of 
the  professor  of  Halle  to  remodel  the  system.  This  clear 
and  systematic  but  narrow-minded  thinker  revived  the  ex- 
tended and  thinking  substances  of  Cartesianism,  without 
even  suspecting  that  he  was  thereby  destroying  the  cen- 
tral and  really  fruitful  notion  of  the  Monadology.  Thus 
altered  and  divided  into  rational  ontology,  psychology, 
cosmology,  and  theology,  the  Leibniz-Wolffian  metaphys- 

1  1679-1754:.  Professor  at  the  University  of  Halle,  from  which  the 
influence  of  the  Pietists  succeeded  in  removing  him.  He  was  recalled 
by  Frederick  II.  Latin  works  :  Oratio  de  Sinariim  philosophia,  Halle, 
1726;  Philosophia  radonnlis  sive  logica  methodo  scientijica  pertracta, 
Frankfort  and  Leipsic,  1728 ;  Philosophia  prima  s.  ontologia,  id.,  1730 , 
Cosmologia  generalis,  id.,  1731;  Psychologia  empirica,  id.,  1732;  Psy- 
chologia  rationalis,  id.,  1734;  Theologia  naturalis,  1730-37  ;  Jus  natures, 
1740;  Philosophia  moralis  sice  ethica,  Halle,  1750;  Philosophia  civilis 
sive  politica,  id.,  1746;  Jus  gentium,  1750;  and  a  large  number  of 
treatises  in  the  German  language.  [See,  on  AVolff  and  his  school, 
Zeller,  Die  deutsche  Philosophie  seit  Leibniz,  2d  ed.,  Munich,  1875, 
pp.  172  ff.] 


LEIBNIZ  369 

ics  dominated  the    German   schools   until   the  advent  of 
Kantianism.^ 

1  The  principal  disciples  of  the  Leibniz- Wolffian  school  are  :  Ludo- 
vici  (A  usfukrlicher  Entwurf  einer  vollsldmlifjen  Hislorie  der  wolffischen 
Pliilosophie,  3  vols.,  Leipsic,  1736-38)  ;  Billinger  (1(393-1750),  author 
of  numerous  and  lucid  commentaries  on  the  philosophy  of  Leibniz 
and  Woltf ;  Thumniing  {Inst'Uutiones  ph'dosophke  Wolffiance,  etc.) ;  Baum- 
garten  (1714-1762),  who,  in  his  jEsthetica  (2  vols,,  1750-58),  adds 
the  theory  of  the  beautiful  in  art,  or  cesthetics,  to  the  philosophical 
sciences,  etc.  Kant  himself  was  a  disciple  of  Wolff  before  he  became 
his  adversary,  and  the  numerous  representatives  of  the  German  Auf- 
Uarung,  which  preceded  the  appearance  of  the  Critiques,  were  related 
to  Wolff  (Reimarus,  Moses  Mendelssohn,  Lessing,  Nicolai,  etc.).  [See 
R.  Sommer,  GrundzUge  einer  Geschichte  der  deutschen  Psycliolorjie  und 
JEsthelik,  etc.,  Wiirzburg,  1892,  and  Dessoir's  work,  supra,  p.  15.] 


M 


SECOND   PERIOD 

AGE  or  CRITICISM 


§  57.     Jolin  Locke 

The  author  of  the  work  criticised  by  Leibniz,  John 
Locke/  was  born  at  Wrington  in  Somersetsliire.  A  fel- 
low-countryman of  Occam  and  tlie  two  Bacons,  he  shows 
the  anti-mystical  and  positivistic  tendencies  common  to 
English  philosophy.  The  study  of  medicine  revealed  to 
him  the  barrenness  of  scholastic  learning.  What,  in  his 
opinion,  perpetuated  the  traditions  of  a  jjriori  speculation 
and  the  ignorance  of  reality,  was  the  Platonic  doctrine  of 
innate  metaphysical,  moral,  and  religious  truths,  teachings 
which  Ralph    Cud  worth  ^   and   Descartes   himself   had 

1  1G32-1704.  Complete  works,  London,  17U  ff. ;  9  vols.,  id.,  1853  ; 
philosophical  works,  ed.  by  St.  John,  2  vols.,  London,  1854.  Next 
to  his  Essay  concerning  Human  Understanding,  his  most  important 
work  is  Thoughts  on  Education,  London,  1693;  in  French,  Amster- 
dam, 1705.  [Lord  King,  Life  of  Locke,  London,  1829  ;  H.  R.  Fox 
Bourne,  The  Life  of  John  Locke,  2  vols.,  London,  1876] ;  V.  Cousin, 
La  philosophie  de  Locke,  6th  ed.,  Paris,  1863;  [A.  de  Fries,  Die  Sid?- 
stanzenlehre  John  Locke's,  etc.,  Bremen,  1879;  Th.  Fowler,  Locke  {Eng' 
lish  Men  of  Letters),  London,  1880;-  A.  C.  Fraser,  Locke  {Blackwood's 
Philosophical  Classics),  Edinburgh,  1890;  M.  M.  Curtis,  An  Outline  of 
Locke's  Ethical  Philosophy,  Leipsic,  1890 ;  G.  v.  Hertling,  John  Locke 
und  die  Schide  von  Cambridge,  Freiburg  i.  B.,  1892;  Marion,  /.  Locke, 
Paris,  1893.  See  also  T.  H.  Green's  Introduction  to  Hume  and  the 
works  pertaining  to  both  Locke  and  Leibniz,  mentioned  under 
"  Leibniz."  —  Tr.] 

2  1617-1688.  In  his  chief  work,  The  True  Intellectual  System  of 
the  Universe  (London,  1678),  he  combats  the  materialistic  conclusions 


JOHN  LOCKE  371 

undertaken  to  defend.  The  fact  is,  if  truth  is  native  to 
the  mind,  it  is  useless  to  search  for  it  outside  by  observation 
and  experimentation.  Then  we  may,  by  means  of  a  iniori 
speculation,  meditation,  and  reasoning,  evolve  it  from  our 
own  inner  consciousness,  as  the  spider  spins  its  web  out  of 
itself.  This  hypothesis  Descartes  consistently  carries  out 
when  he  "  closes  his  eyes  and  stops  his  ears,"  and  abstracts 
from  everytliing  acquired  by  the  senses ;  but  he  ceases  to 
be  consistent  when  he  assiduously  devotes  himself  to  the 
study  of  anatomy  and  physiology.  Indeed,  the  favorite 
method  of  the  metaphysics  of  the  monasteries  and  univer- 
sities was  to  close  one's  eyes,  to  stop  one's  ears,  and  to 
ignore  the  real  world.  This  method  prevailed  as  long  as 
the  conviction  existed  that  our  ideas  have  their  source 
within  us.  Hence,  it  was  necessary,  in  order  to  make  the 
philosophers  "  open  their  eyes  to  the  real  world,"  to  prove 
to  them  that  all  our  ideas  come  to  us  from  without,  through 
the  medium  of  sensation  :  it  was  necessary  to  demonstrate 
that  our  ideas  are  not  innate  but  acquired. 

This  Locke  undertook  to  do  in  his  Essay  concerning 
Human  Understanding  ^  (London,  1690),  A\hich,  witli  im- 
portant additions  by  the  author,  \^'as  translated  into  French 
by  Coste  (1700).  This  great  work  marks  the  beginning  of 
a  series  of  investigations  Avhich  were  completed  by  Kant's 
Critique.  Locke's  aim  is :  (1)  to  discover  what  is  the  origin 
of  our  ideas ;  (2)  to  show  what  is  the  certainty,  the  evi- 
dence, and  the  extent  of  our  knowledge ;   (3)  to  compel 

of  Thomas  Ilobbes  witli  tlie  system  of  Christianized  Platoiiism,  whicli 
also  influenced  men  like  Maleliranche,  I.ei])niz,  I'onnet,  and  Herder. 
[See  C.  E.  Lowrey,  The  Philosnp/ii/  of  Ralph  Cudworlh,  New  York, 
1S85.] 

*  [Edited,  collated,  and  annotated  by  A.  C.  Eraser,  2  vols.,  New 
York,  1894  ;  J.  E.  Russel,  The  Philono})h>/  of  Lode  in  Extracts  from 
the  ICs.sat/,  etc.  {Series  of  Modern  Philosophers),  New  York,  1891. 
-Th.] 


372  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

philosophy  to  abandon  what  surpasses  human  comprehen- 
sion lij  clearly  marking  the  limits  of  its  capacity} 

We  have  no  innate  knowledge  :  such  is  his  revolutionary 
doctrine  against  idealism. 

As  it  is  evident  that  new-born  children,  idiots,  and  even 
the  o-reat  part  of  illiterate  men,  have  not  the  least  appre- 
hension of  the  axioms  alleged  to  be  innate,  the  advocates 
of  innate  ideas  are  obliged  to  assume  that  the  mind  can 
have  ideas  without  being  conscious  of  them.^  But  to  say, 
a  notion  is  imprinted  on  the  mind,  and  at  the  same  time  to 
maintain  that  the  mind  is  ignorant  of  it,  is  to  make  this 
impression  nothing.  If  these  words,  to  he  in  the  under- 
standing, have  any  positive  meaning,  they  signify  to  he  per- 
ceived and  to  he  understood  hy  the  understanding :  hence,  if 
any  one  asserts  that  a  thing  is  in  the  understanding,  and 
that  it  is  not  understood  l)y  the  understanding,  and  that  it 
is  in  the  mind  without  being  perceived  by  the  mind,  it 
amounts  to  saying  that  a  thing  is  and  is  not  in  the  under- 
standing. 

The  knowledge  of  soine  ideas,  it  is  true,  is  very  early 
in  the  mind.  But  if  we  will  observe,  we  shall  find  that 
these  kinds  of  truths  are  made  up  of  acquired  and  not  of 
innate  truths.^  It  is  by  degrees  that  we  acquire  ideas, 
that  we  learn  the  terms  which  are  employed  to  express 
them,  and  that  we  come  to  understand  their  true  connec- 
tion.'* The  universal  consent  of  mankind  to  certain  truths 
does  not  prove  that  these  are  innate ;  for  nobody  knows 
these  truths  till  he  hears  them  from  others.     For,  if  they 

1  Essay,  Book  I.,  ch.  I.,  Introduction. 

2  Thus  Leibniz  speaks  of  unconscious  perception,  and  Leibniz  is 
right,  notwithstanding  the  English  philosopher's  objections.  His 
only  mistake  consists  in  his  failure  to  recognize  that  the  unconscious 
perceptions  need  some  external  solicitation  in  order  to  become  con- 
scious, which,  however,  his  preconceptions  will  not  allow  him  to 
assume. 

3  Book  I.,  ch.  IL,  5,  15.  *  Id.,  15. 


JOHN  LOCKE  873 

were  innate,  "  wliat  need  they  be  ]3roposed  to  gain  assent  ?  " 
An  innate  and  unknown  truth  is  a  contradiction  in  terms. 

The  principles  of  morals  are  no  more  innate  than  the 
rest,  unless  we  so  call  the  desire  for  liappiness  and  the  aver- 
sion to  misery,  which  are,  indeed,  innate  tendencies,  but 
which  are  not  the  expressions  of  some  truth  engraven  on 
the  understanding.^  In  this  field  universal  consent  cannot 
be  invoked  in  any  case ;  for  moral  ideas  vary  from  nation 
to  nation,  from  religion  to  religion.  The  keeping  of  con- 
tracts, for  example,  is  without  dispute  one  of  the  most  un- 
deniable duties  in  morality.  But,  if  you  ask  a  Christian, 
who  believes  in  rewards  and  punishments  after  this  life, 
why  a  man  should  keep  his  word,  he  will  give  this  as  a 
reason  :  Because  God,  who  has  the  power  of  eternal  life  and 
death,  requires  it  of  us.  But  if  a  Hobbist  be  asked  why, 
he  will  answer.  Because  the  public  requires  it,  and  the 
Leviathan  Avill  punish  you  if  you  do  not.  Finally,  a  pagan 
philosopher  Avould  have  answered  that  the  violation  of  a 
promise  was  dishonest,  unworthy  of  the  excellence  of  man, 
and  contrary  to  his  vocation,  which  is  perfect  virtue. 

The  fact  is  urged  against  Locke  that  conscience  re- 
proaches us  for  the  breach  of  the  rules  of  morality.  But 
conscience  is  nothing  else  but  our  own  ojnnion  of  our  otvii 
actions,^  and  if  cons(;ience  were  a  proof  of  the  existence  of 
innate  principles,  these  principles  could  be  contrary  to  each 
other,  since  some  persons  do,  for  conscience's  sake,  wliat 
others  avoid  for  the  same  reason.  Do  not  the  savages  prac- 
tise enormities  without  the  sliglitest  remorse  ?  Tlie  break- 
ing of  a  moral  rule  is  undoubtedly  no  argument  that  it  is 
unknown.  But  it  is  impossible  to  conceive  that  a  Avholc 
nation  of  men  sliould  all  pul)licly  reject  what  every  one  of 
them  certainly  and  infallibly  knew  to  be  a  moral  law.  No 
practical  rule  which  is  auywliere  transgressed  bi/  general 
consent  can  be  regardiMl  as  innate.  I'o  ln'M  that  tlie  prac- 
1  c.  111,3.  ■'  Id.,^. 


374  MODERN  THILOSOrHY 

tical  principles  are  innate  is  to  declare  all  moral  education 
impossible. 

That  does  not  mean  that  there  are  only  positive  laws. 
There  is  a  great  deal  of  difference  between  an  innate  law 
and  a  law  of  nature,  between  a  truth  originally  imprinted 
on  our  minds  and  a  truth  which  we  are  ignorant  of,  but 
may  attain  to  the  knowledge  of  by  the  use  and  due  applica- 
tion of  our  natural  faculties.  Furthermore,  consider  the 
origin  of  a  host  of  doctrines  which  pass  as  indubitable 
axioms :  though  derived  from  no  other  source  than  the  su- 
perstition of  a  nurse  or  the  authority  of  an  old  woman,  they 
often  grow  up,  by  length  of  time  and  consent  of  neighbors, 
to  the  dignity  of  principles  in  religion  and  morality.  The 
mind  of  the  child  receives  the  impressions  Avhich  we  desire 
to  give  it,  like  white  paper  on  which  you  write  any  charac- 
ters you  choose.  When  children  so  instructed  reach  the 
age  of  reason  and  come  to  reflect  on  themselves,  they  can- 
not find  anything  more  ancient  in  their  minds  than  those 
opinions,  and  therefore  imagine  that  those  p-opositions  of 
xoliose  knowledge  they  can  find  in  themselves  no  original,  arc 
the  impress  of  God  and  natitrc,  and  not  things  taught  them 
hg  any  one  else} 

Moreover,  how  can  a  truth,  that  is,  a  proposition,  be  in- 
nate, if  the  ideas  which  make  up  that  truth  are  not  ?  In 
order  that  a  proposition  be  innate,  certain  ideas  must  be 
innate ;  but,  excepting  perhaps  some  faint  ideas  of  hunger, 
warmth,  and  pains,  which  they  may  have  felt  in  the  mother's 
womb,  there  is  not  the  least  appearance  that  new-born 
children  have  any  settled  ideas.  Even  the  idea  of  God  is 
not  innate;  for  besides  the  individuals  wdio  are  called 
atheists  and  who  are  really  atheists,  there  are  whole  nations 
who  have  no  notion  of  God  nor  any  term  to  express  it. 
Moreover,  this  notion  varies  infinitely  from  coarse  anthro- 
pomorphism to  the  deism  of  the  philosophers.     And  even  if 

1  c.  III.,  23. 


JOHN  LOCKE  375 

it  were  universal  and  everywhere  the  same,  it  would  not, 
on  that  account,  be  more  innate  than  the  idea  of  fire  ;  for 
there  is  no  one  who  has  any  idea  of  God  who  has  not  also 
the  idea  of  fire.^ 

The  soul  is  originally  an  emjyty  tallet.  Experience  is  the 
source  of  all  our  ideas,  the  foundation  of  all  our  knowledge, 
that  is,  the  observations  which  we  make  about  external  sen- 
sible objects  or  about  the  internal  operations  of  our  minds. 
Sensation  is  the  source  of  our  knowledge  of  external  objects, 
reflection,  of  our  knowledge  of  internal  facts.  There  is  not 
in  the  mind  a  single  idea  that  is  not  derived  from  one  or 
both  of  these  principles.  The  first  ideas  of  the  child  come 
from  sensation,  and  it  is  only  at  a  more  advanced  age  that 
he  seriously  reflects  on  what  takes  place  within  him.  The 
study  of  languages  may  be  cited  in  support  of  this  thesis. 
In  fact,  all  the  words  which  we  employ  depend  on  sensible 
ideas,  and  those  wliich  are  made  use  of  to  stand  for  actions 
and  notions  quite  removed  from  sense  have  their  rise  from 
thence,  and  from  obvious  sensible  ideas  are  transferred  to 
more  abstruse  significations.  Thus,  for  example,  to  imagine, 
apprehend,  comprehend,  adhere,  conceive,  instil,  disgust, 
disturbance,  tranquillity,  etc.,  are  all  words  taken  from  the 
operations  of  sensible  things  and  applied  to  certain  modes 
of  thinking.  Spirit,  in  its  primary  signification,  is  breath  ; 
angel,  a  messenger.  If  \ve  could  trace  all  these  words  to 
their  sources,  we  should  certainly  find  in  all  languages  the 
names  which  stand  for  things  that  fall  not  under  our  senses 
to  have  had  their  first  rise  from  sonsil)le  ideas.^  Follow  a 
child  from  its  birth  and  observe  the  alterations  that  time 
makes,  and  you  shall  find,  as  the  mind  by  the  senses  comes 
more  and  more  to  ])e  furnislied  with  ideas,  it  comes  to  be 
more  and  more  awake,  and  tliink-s  more,  the  more  it  has 
matter  to  think  on. 

Locke  answers  the  question.  When  do  we  l)egin  to  think? 

1  c.  III..  'J.  MJ.  ill    ('liap.  I.,  5. 


376  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

as  follows :  As  soon  as  sensation  furnishes  us  with  the  ma- 
terials. We  do  not  think  before  we  have  sensations.  Nihil 
est  in  intellectu  quod  non  antea  fuerit  in  sensu.  According 
to  the  idealist,  thought  is  the  essence  of  the  soul,  and  it  is 
not  possible  for  the  soul  not  to  think  ;  it  thinks  antecedent 
to  and  independently  of  sensation ;  it  always  thinks  even 
though  it  is  not  conscious  of  it.  But  experience,  which 
alone  can  settle  the  question,  by  no  means  proves  it,  and  it 
is  not  any  more  necessar^j  for  the  soul  always  to  think  than  it 
is  for  the  body  ahvays  to  move?-  The  absolute  continuity  of 
thought  is  one  of  those  hypotheses  which  have  no  fact  of 
experience  to  bear  them  out.  A  man  cannot  think  without 
perceiving  that  he  thinks.  With  as  much  reason  might  we 
claim  that  a  man  is  always  hungry,  but  that  he  does  not 
always  feel  it.^  .  Thought  depends  entirely  on  sensation. 
In  its  sublimest  ideas  and  in  its  highest  speculations  it  does 
not  stir  beyond  those  ideas  which  sense  or  reflection  has 
offered  for  its  contemplation.  In  this  part  the  understand- 
ing is  purely  passive.  The  objects  of  our  senses  obtrude 
their  particular  ideas  upon  our  minds  whether  we  will  or 
not.  These  simple  ideas,  when  offered  to  the  mind,  the 
understanding  can  no  more  refuse  to  have,  nor  alter,  nor 
blot  them  out,  than  a  mirror  can  refuse,  alter,  or  obliterate 
the  images  of  the  objects  placed  before  it.^ 

There  are  two  kinds  of  ideas,  some  simple  and  some 
complex.  These  simple  ideas,  the  materials  of  all  our 
knowledge,  are  suggested  to  the  mind  only  by  those  two 
ways  above  mentioned,  viz.,  sensation  and  reflection.  The 
mind,  though  passive  in  the  formation  of  simple  ideas,  is 
active  in  the  formation  of  complex  ideas.  It  receives  the 
former,  it  males  the  latter.  When  it  has  once  received 
the  simple  ideas  it  has  the  power  to  repeat,  compare,  and 
unite  them,  even  to  an  almost  infinite  variety,  and  so  can 
make  new  complex  ideas.  But  it  is  not  in  the  power  of 
1  B.  II.,  chap.  I.,  10.  2  1,1^  19.  3  la.,  25. 


JOHN  LOCKE  377 

the  most  fruitful  mind  to  form  a  single  new  simple  idea, 
not  taken  in  by  the  wa}^  of  sensation  and  reflection.  The 
dominion  of  man,  in  tliis  little  ^yorld  of  his  own  under- 
standing, is  the  same  as  it  is  in  the  great  world  of  visible 
things,  wherein  his  power,  however  managed  by  art  and 
skill,  reaches  no  farther  than  to  compound  and  divide  the 
materials  that  are  made  to  his  hand ;  hut  can  do  nothing 
towards  the  making  the  least  particle  of  new  matter^  or 
destroying  one  atom  of  what  is  already  in  heing.^ 

The  simple  ideas  come  into  our  minds  by  one  sense  only, 
or  by  more  senses  than  one,  or  from  reflection  only,  or, 
finally,  by  all  the  ways  of  sensation  and  reflection.^ 

Among  the  ideas  which  come  to  us  only  through  one 
sense  (colors,  sounds,  tastes,  smells,  etc.),  there  is  none 
which  we  receive  more  constantly  than  the  idea  of  solidity 
or  impenetrabilit3^  We  receive  this  idea  fi-om  touch.  This, 
of  all  simple  ideas,  is  the  idea  most  intimately  connected 
with  and  essential  to  bod}-.  Solidity  is  neither  space  — 
with  wliich  the  Cartesians  erroneously  identify  it  —  nor 
hardness.  It  differs  from  space  as  resistance  differs  from 
non-resistance.  A  body  is  solid  in  so  far  as  it  fills  the  space 
which  it  occupies  to  the  absolute  exclusion  of  every  other 
body ;  it  is  hard,  in  so  far  as  it  does  not  easily  change  its 
figure.  It  is  not  properly  a  definition  of  solidity  that 
Locke  pretends  to  give  us.  If  we  ask  him  to  give  us  a 
clearer  explanation  of  solidity,  he  sends  us  to  our  senses  to 
inform  us.  The  simple  ideas  we  have  are  sucli  as  experi- 
ence teaches  us ;  but  if,  l)e3'ond  that,  we  endeavor  to  make 
them  clearer  in  the  mind,  we  sliall  succeed  no  Ix'tter. 

The  ideas  which  come  to  tlie  mind  by  more  lliaii  one 
sense  (sight  and  toucli)  are  those  of  space  or  extension, 
figure,  rest,  and  motion.  By  reflection  we  get  tlie  ideas  of 
perception  or  the  power  of  tliinking,  and  the  ideas  of  vol- 
ition or  tlic  ]K)\ver  to  act.  Finally,  the  ideas  of  ])leasure, 
»  J5.  II.,  dial..  II.,  -J.  •■'  y</.,  cluip.  III.,  1. 


378  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

pain,  power,  existence,  and  unity  come  to  us  by  sensation 
and  reflection. 

Some  of  the  external  causes  of  our  sensations  are  real 
and  positive,  others  are  only  privations  in  the  objects 
from  whence  our  senses  derive  those  ideas,  like  those,  for 
example,  which  produce  the  ideas  of  cold,  darkness,  and 
rest.  When  the  understanding  perceives  these  ideas,  it  con- 
siders them  as  distinct  and  as  positive  as  the  others,  with- 
out taking  notice  of  the  causes  that  produce  them,  which 
is  an  inquiry  not  belonging  to  the  idea,  as  it  is  in  the 
understanding,  but  to  the  nature  of  the  things  existing 
without  us.  Now  these  are  two  very  different  things,  and 
caref  idly  to  be  distinguished ;  we  must  not  think  that  our 
ideas  are  exactly  the  images  and  resemblances  of  something 
inherent  in  the  object  which  produces  them ;  for  most  of 
the  ideas  of  sensation  which  are  in  our  minds  are  no  more 
the  likeness  of  something  existing  loitlwut  us,  than  the  names 
that  stand  for  them  are  the  likeness  of  our  ideas,  although 
these  names  are  apt  to  excite  ideas  in  us  as  soon  as  we 
hear  them.^ 

Different  things  should  have  different  names  ;  hence, 
whatsoever  the  mind  perceives  in  itself,  every  perception 
that  is  in  the  mind  when  it  thinks,  Locke  calls  idea,  and 
the  power  or  faculty  to  produce  any  idea  in  oiu-  mind  he 
calls  the  quality  of  the  subject  (we  should  say:  of  the 
object). 

That  being  established,  Locke,  like  Hobbes,  distinguishes 
two  kinds  of  qualities.''^     Some,  such  as  solidity,  extension, 

1  B.  II.,  chap.  VIII.,  1  ff.  Here  we  have  the  fundamental  princi- 
ple of  criticism  which,  as  we  have  seen,  was  advanced  by  Aristippus, 
Pyi-rho,  J]^nesidemus,  Hobbes,  and  Descartes.  The  eighth  chapter  of 
the  second  book  of  the  Essay,  of  which  the  above  is  a  summary,  and 
especially  §  7  of  this  chapter,  is  the  classical  expression  of  the 
philosophy  to  which  Kant  gives  its  real  name. 

2  /(/.,  9. 


JOHN  LOCKE  379 

figure,  and  mobility,  are  inseparable  from  the  body,  in  what 
state  soever  it  be :  such  as  it  constantly  keeps  in  all  the 
alterations  it  suffers.  These  are  the  original  or  'primary 
or  real  qualities  of  body.^  Others,  like  colors,  sounds, 
tastes,  etc.,  do  not  belong  to  the  boches  themselves,  and  are 
nothing  but  the  power  which  they  have  to  produce  various 
sensations  in  us  by  their  primary  qualities,  that  is,  by  the 
bulk,  figure,  texture,  and  motion  of  their  insensible  parts. 
Locke  calls  them  secondary  qualities :  qualities,  in  order  to 
comply  with  the  common  way  of  speaking,  wliich  con- 
siders white,  red,  and  sweet  as  something  inherent  in  the 
bodies ;  secondary,  in  order  to  distinguisli  them  from  those 
which  are  real  qualities. 

Whatever  reality  we  may  by  mistake  attribute  to  them, 
colors,  smells,  sounds,  and  tastes  are  nothing  but  sensa- 
tions produced  in  ils  by  the  primary  or  real  qualities  of 
bodies,  —  sensations  which  in  no  way  resemble  the  qualities 
which  exist  in  the  objects.  What  is  sweet,  blue,  or  warm 
in  idea  is  nothing  but  a  certain  bulk,  figure,  and  motion 
of  the  insensible  parts  in  the  bodies  themselves  which  we 
call  so.  Take  away  the  sensation  which  Ave  have  of  these 
qualities ;  let  not  the  eyes  see  light  or  colors,  nor  the  ears 
hear  sounds  ;  let  the  palate  not  taste,  nor  the  nose  smell ; 
and  all  colors,  tastes,  odors,  and  sounds  will  vanisli  and 
cease  to  exist.  In  the  opposite  hypothesis,  the  result  will 
be  the  same.  Suppose  man  were  endowed  witli  senses  suf- 
ficiently fine  to  discern  the  small  particles  of  bodies  and  tlie 
real  constitution  on  which  their  sensible  qualities  depend, 
and  they  will  produce  in  him  quite  different  ideas.  The 
effects  of  the  microscope  prove  it;  blood,  for  ex:nn])le, 
seems  quite  red  to  us,  but  l)y  means  of  this  instrument, 
which  discovei's  tf)  us  its  sm;illest  particles,  we  see  nothing 
but  a  very  small  nnniher  of  red  globules;  and  we  do  not 
know  how  these  led  globules  would  appear  if  we  could 
1  15.  II.,  cl.ai).  VIII.,  t). 


380  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

find  glasses  with  a  magnifjdng  power  that  is  a  thousand  or 
ten  thousand  times  greater. 

The  formation  of  ideas  presupposes  the  following  facul- 
ties in  the  understanding :  (1)  perception,  which  is  the  first 
step  and  degree  towards  knowledge,  and  the  inlet  of  all 
the  materials  of  it;  (2)  retention,  which  keeps  the  ideas 
brought  into  the  mind,  for  some  time  actually  in  view  (con- 
templation), and  revives  again  those  which  after  imprinting 
have  disappeared  from  it  (memory) ;  (3)  discernment,  or  the 
faculty  of  clearly  distinguishing  between  the  different  ideas ; 
(4)  comparison,  which  forms  that  large  tribe  of  ideas  com- 
prehended under  relations ;  (5)  comjjosition,  whereby  the 
mind  joins  together  several  simple  ideas  which  it  has  re- 
ceived from  sensation  and  reflection,  and  cpmbines  them  into 
complex  ones  ;  finally  (6)  abstraction.'^  If  every  particular 
idea  that  we  take  in  should  have  a  distinct  name,  the  num- 
ber of  words  would  be  endless.  To  prevent  this,  the  mind 
makes  the  particular  ideas  received  from  particular  objects, 
general ;  it  separates  them  (ahstrahere)  from  all  the  circum- 
stances which  make  these  ideas  represent  particular  and 
actually  existent  beings,  as  time,  place,  and  other  concomi- 
tant ideas.  This  operation  of  the  mind  is  called  abstrac- 
tion. It  is  the  prerogative  of  the  human  mind,  whereas 
the  preceding  faculties  are  common  to  man  and  brutes. 

The  mind  is  passive  in  perception  proper,  but  becomer 
more  and  more  active  in  the  following  steps ;  comparison, 
the  composition  of  complex  ideas,  and  abstraction,  are  the 
three  great  acts  of  the  mind.  But,  however  active  the 
mind  may  be  in  the  formation  of  complex  ideas,  these  are 
in  the  last  analysis  but  modes  or  modifications  of  the 
materials  which  it  passively  receives  from  sensation  and 
reflection. 

Thus  the  ideas  of  place,  figure,  distance,  and  immensity 
are  modifications  or  modes  of  the  simple  idea  of  space,  which 
1  B.  IL,  chaps.  IX.,  ff. 


JOHN  LOCKE  381 

is  acquired  by  sight  and  toucli ;  the  ideas  of  periods,  hours, 
days,  years,  time,  eternity,  are  modifications  of  the  idea  of 
duration  or  succession,  which  we  acquire  by  observing  the 
constant  train  of  ideas  which  succeed  one  another  in  our 
minds ;  the  idea  of  finite  and  infinite,  modifications  of  the 
idea  of  quantity.^ 

If  it  be  olijected  that  the  ideas  of  infinit}^  eternity,  and 
immensity  cannot  have  the  same  source  as  the  others,  since 
the  objects  whicli  surround  us  have  no  affinity  nor  any  pro- 
portion with  an  infinite  extension  or  duration,  Locke  an- 
swers tliat  these  ideas  are  merely  negative,  that  we  do  not 
actually  have  in  the  mind  any  positive  idea  of  an  infinite 
space  or  an  endless  duration  ^  (Aristotle).  All  our  positive 
ideas  are  always  limited.  The  negative  idea  of  an  infinite 
space  and  duration  comes  from  the  power  which  the  mind 
has  of  extending  its  ideas  of  space  and  duration  by  an  end- 
less number  of  new  additions. 

We  get  the  idea  of  active  and  passive  power  (recep- 
tivity) when  we  observe,  on  the  one  hand,  the  continual 
alteration  in  things,  and,  on  the  other,  the  constant  change 
of  our  ideas,  which  is  sometimes  caused  by  the  impression 
of  outward  objects  on  our  senses,  and  sometimes  by  the 
determination  of  our  own  will. 

When  we  reflect  on  the  power  which  the  mind  has  to 
command  the  presence  or  the  absence  of  any  particular 
idea,  or  to  prefer  the  motion  of  any  i)art  of  tlie  l)0(ly  to  its 
rest,  and  vice  versa,  we  acquire  the  idea  of  \\  ill.  1(7//  is  not 
opposed  to  necessity/,  but  to  restraint.  Liberty  is  not  an 
attribute  of  the  will.  Will  is  a  power  or  al)ility,  and  free- 
dom another  power  or  ability;  so  that  to  ask  a  man 
whether  his  will  l)e  free  is  to  ask  wliether  one  power  has 
another  power,  one  ability  anotlier  ability .^  To  speak  of  a 
free  will  is  like  speaking  of  swift  sleep  or  scpiare  virtue. 

1  ii.  U,,  cliaps.  XII.  ly.  2  /(/.^  (,i,;ip.  XVII.,  13. 

8  Jd.,  cluq..  XXI. 


882  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

"VVe  are  not  free  to  will.  We  are  not  free  to  will  or  not  to 
will  a  thing  wliich  is  in  our  power,  when  once  we  give  our 
attention  to  it.  The  will  is  determined  by  the  mind,^  and 
the  mind  is  determined  by  the  desire  for  happiness.  On 
this  point  Locke,  Leibniz,  and  Spinoza  are  in  perfect 
accord,  and  unanimously  opposed  to  Cartesian  indeter- 
minism. 

The  notions  which  we  have  just  analyzed  are  combina- 
tions of  simple  ideas  of  the  same  kind  {simple  modes). 
Others,  like  obligation,  friendship,  falsehood,  and  hypocrisy, 
are  composed  of  simple  ideas  of  different  kinds  {mixed 
modes).  Thus,  the  mixed  mode  which  the  word  lie  stands 
for  is  made  of  these  simple  ideas :  (1)  articulate  sounds  ; 
(2)  certain  ideas  in  the  mind  of  the  speaker;  (3)  words 
which  are  the  signs  of  those  ideas ;  (4)  those  signs  put 
together  by  affirmation  or  negation,  otherwise  than  as  the 
ideas  they  stand  for  are  in  the  mind  of  the  speaker. 

We  get  the  idea  of  these  mixed  modes  as  follows:  (1) 
By  experience  and  observation  of  things  themselves.  Thus, 
by  seeing  two  men  wrestle  or  fence  we  get  the  idea  of 
wrestling  or  fencing.  (2)  By  invention,  or  voluntary  put- 
ting together  of  several  simple  ideas  in  our  own  minds  :  so 
he  that  first  invented  printing  or  etching  had  an  idea  of  it 
in  his  mind  before  it  ever  existed.  (3)  By  explaining  the 
names  of  actions  we  never  saw,  or  notions  we  cannot  see. 
The  several  fashions,  customs,  and  manners  of  a  nation 
give  rise  to  several  combinations  of  ideas  which  are 
familiar  and  necessary  to  that  nation,  but  which  another 
people  have  never  had  any  occasion  to  make.  Special 
names  come  to  be  annexed  to  such  special  combinations  of 
a  people,  to  avoid  long  periphrases  in  things  of  daily  con- 
versation {ostracism  among  the  Greeks,  ]3roscription  among 
the  Romans),  and  so  there  are  in  every  language  particular 
terms  which  cannot  be  literally  translated  into  any  other. 
1  B.  11.,  chap.  XXT.,  29. 


JOHN  LOCKE  383 

So  niiicli  for  the  complex  ideas  that  express  modes. 

The  complex  ideas  of  substances  (man,  horse,  tree)  are 
formed  as  follows :  The  mind  observes  that  a  certain  num- 
ber of  simple  ideas,  conveyed  in  by  the  different  senses,  con- 
stantly go  together,  and  accustoms  itself  to  regard  such  a 
complication  of  ideas  as  one  object,  and  designates  it  by  one 
name.  Hence,  a  substance  is  nothing  but  a  combination  of 
a  certain  number  of  simple  ideas,  considered  as  united  in 
one  thing.  Thus  the  substance  called  sun  is  nothing  but 
the  aggregate  of  the  ideas  of  light,  heat,  roundness,  and  con- 
stant, regular  motion.  By  substance,  the  philosophy  of  the 
School,  and  afterwards  Descartes,  imagined  an  unknown 
object,  which  they  assumed  to  be  the  support  (sahstratum) 
of  such  qualities  as  are  capable  of  producing  simple 
ideas  in  us,  which  qualities  are  commonly  called  accidents. 
But  this  substance  considered  as  amjthing  else  but  the  com- 
bination of  these  qualities,  as  something  hidden  behind 
them,  is  a  mere  phantom  of  the  imagination.  We  have  no 
distinct  idea  of  such  a  substratum  without  qualities.  If 
an}-  one  should  be  asked  wherein  color  or  weight  inheres, 
"  he  would  liave  nothing  to  say,  but  the  solid  extended  parts ; 
and  if  lie  were  demanded  what  is  it  that  solidity  and  exten- 
sion adhere  in,  he  wouhl  not  be  in  a  much  better  case  than 
the  Indian  before  mentioned,  who,  saying  that  the  world 
was  supported  by  a  great  elepliant,  was  asked  what  the  ele- 
phant rested  on  ;  to  which  liis  answer  was,  —  a  great  tor- 
toise ;  but  being  again  pressed  i^  know  what  gave  support 
to  the  broad-backed  tortoise,  replied,  —  something,  he  knew 
not  what."  ^  Our  knowledge  does  not  extend  beyond  the 
assumed  accidents,  that  is,  beyond  our  simple  ideas,  and 
whenever  meta[)hy8ics  attempts  to  proceed  beyond  them  it 
is  confronted  with  insurmountable  diiliculties. 

The  third  chiss  of  comjih-x  ideas  express  relation.     The 
most  comprehensive  relation  wherein  all    things  are  con- 
1  15.  II.,  .hai..  XXIII.,  2. 


884  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

cerned  is  the  relation  of  cause  and  effect.  We  get  tlie  idea 
of  this  by  noticing,  by  means  of  the  senses,  the  constant 
vicissitude  of  tilings,  and  by  observing  that  they  owe  their 
existence  to  the  action  of  some  other  being.  Locke  does 
not  analyze  the  idea  of  cause  as  thoroughly  as  his  successor 
Hume.  We  shall  see  that  the  latter  regards  it  as  no  less 
illusory  than  the  idea  of  substance,  or  substratum. 

In  passing  from  the  study  of  ideas  to  the  problem  of 
knowledge  and  certitude,  Locke  enters  upon  a  philological 
discussion,  which  we  have  partly  reproduced  above,  and 
which  stamps  him  as  one  of  the  founders  of  the  philosophy 
of  language. 

All  things  that  exist  are  particulars.  The  far  greatest 
part  of  words  (with  the  exception  of  proper  names)  are 
general  terms ;  which  has  not  been  the  effect  of  neglect  or 
chance,  but  of  reason  and  necessity.  In  what  do  the  species 
and  genera  consist,  and  how  do  they  come  to  be  formed  ? 
Our  ideas  are  at  first  particular.  The  ideas  which  the  chil- 
dren have  of  their  nurse  and  their  mother  represent  only 
those  individuals.  The  names  which  they  first  gave  to 
them  are  confined  to  these  individuals  and  designate  only 
them.  Afterwards,  when  time  and  a  larger  acquaintance 
with  the  world  have  made  them  observe  that  there  are  a 
great  many  other  things  that  resemble  their  father  and 
mother  and  those  persons  they  have  been  used  to,  they 
frame  an  idea,  which  they  find  those  many  particulars  do 
partake  in ;  and  to  that  they  give,  with  others,  the  name 
ma7i.  And  thus  they  come  to  have  a  general  name,  and  a 
general  idea ;  wherein  they  make  nothing  new,  but  only 
leave  out  of  the  complex  idea  they  had  of  Peter  and  James, 
Mary  and  Jane,  that  which  is  peculiar  to  each,  and  retain 
only  what  is  connnon  to  all.  In  the  same  way  they  acquire 
all  general  ideas.  This  process  of  abstraction  and  general- 
ization is  a  necessity ;  for  it  would  be  impossible  for  each 
tiling  to  have  a  particular  name.     It  is  beyond  the  power 


JOHN  LOCKE  385 

of  human  capacity  to  frame  and  retain  distinct  ideas  of  all 
the  particular  things  we  meet  with,  —  of  every  tree,  of  every 
plant,  of  every  beast,  that  affected  the  senses.  Still  less 
possible  would  it  be  to  retain  their  names.  But  even  if  it 
could  be  done,  it  would  not  be  of  any  great  use  for  the  im- 
provement of  knowledge  ;  for  although  our  knowledge  is 
founded  on  particular  observations,  it  enlarges  itself  by 
general  views,  which  can  only  be  formed  by  reducing  the 
things  to  certain  species  under  general  names. 

General  notions  {universalia)  are  nothing  but  abstract  and 
partial  ideas  of  more  comjilex  ones,  taken  from  particular 
existences.  They  are  simple  products  of  our  minds.  Gen- 
eral and  universal  belong  not  to  the  real  existence  of  things  ; 
hut  are  the  inventions  and  creatures  of  the  understanding} 
It  is  true  that  nature,  in  the  production  of  things,  makes 
several  of  them  alike ;  there  is  nothing  more  obvious,  espe- 
cially in  the  races  of  animals,  and  all  things  propagated  by 
seed.  But  the  reduction  of  these  things  to  siJccies  is  the 
workmanship  of  the  understanding.  Owing  to  its  lack  of 
a  thorough  knowledge  of  nature,  the  Platonic  doctrine, 
which  regarded  universals  as  the  ingenerable  and  incorrupt- 
ible essences  of  things,  disregarded  tliis  fact  of  experience 
that  all  things  that  exist,  besides  their  author,  are  liable  to 
change ;  thus,  that  which  was  grass  to-day  is  to-morrow  the 
flesh  of  a  sheep,  and  within  a  few  days  after  becomes  part 
of  a  man.  In  the  organic  world,  as  elsewhere,  the  genera, 
species,  essences,  and  substantial  forms,  dreamt  of  by  the 
metaphysicians,  far  from  being  things  regularly  and  con- 
stantly made  by  nature  and  having  a  real  existence  in 
things  themselves  (Aristotle)  or  apart  from  them  (Plato), 
"appear,  upon  a  more  wary  survey,  to  be  nothing  else  but  an 
artifice  of  the  understanding,  for  the  easier  signifying  such 
collections  of  ideas  as  it  should  often  have  occasion  to  com- 
municate by  one  general  term."     Notice,  moreover,  how 

1  B.  III.,  cliap.  III.,  11. 
2J 


386  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

doubtful  is  the  significatiou  of  the  word  "  species,"  and  how 
difficult  it  is  to  define  organic  beings. ^  So  uncertain  are 
the  boundaries  of  animal  species  that  none  of  the  definitions 
of  the  word  "  man  "  which  we  yet  have,  nor  descriptions  of 
that  sort  of  animal,  are  so  perfect  and  exact  as  to  satisfy  a 
considerate  inquisitive  person.^  We  may  find  that  learned 
men  multiply  species  too  much,  but  we  may  also  hold  the 
opposite.  Why,  for  example,  are  not  a  shock  and  a  liound 
as  distinct  species  as  a  spaniel  and  an  elephant  ?  Any  one 
who  carefully  observes  the  individuals  ranked  under  one 
and  the  same  general  name  can  hardly  douljt  that  many  of 
them  are  as  different,  one  from  another,  as  several  of  those 
which  are  ranked  under  different  specific  names.^ 

We  may  remark,  in  passing,  that  the  modein  theory  of 
the  transmutation  of  species  is  nothing  but  an  application 
of  Locke's  teaching  that  sj)ecies  have  no  objective  reality. 
Let  us  also  note  the  important  fact  that  this  extreme  nom- 
inalism closely  approximates  extreme  realism.  Scholastic 
nominalism  denies  the  reality  of  species,  and  absolutely 
affirms  the  reality  of  individuals  to  the  exclusion  of  every- 
thing else.  In  this  sense  Leibniz  is  a  nominalist.  English 
nominalism,  from  which  the  theory  of  transformation  takes 
its  rise,  denies  not  only  the  existence  of  species,  but  also  the 
stability  of  the  individuals  themselves.  All  things,  says 
Locke,  besides  their  author,  are  liable  to  change.  Now  this 
is  exactly  what  Spinoza  teaches.  lie  is  not  content  with 
repudiating  universals  for  the  sake  of  the  one  universal 
Being,  but  considers  the  individuals  themselves  as  passing 
modes  of  what  he  calls  substance,  what  the  materialists 
call  matter,  and  Locke  and  the  positivists  call  the  great 
unknown. 

Hence,  species,  genera,  and  universals  are  mere  words 
{flatus  vocis).     The  traditional  error  of  the  metaphysicians 

1  B.  III.,  chap,  v.,  9.  2  Id.,  chap.  VI.,  27. 

■  Id.,  chap.  VI.,  38 ;  chap.  X.,  20. 


JOHN  LOCKE  887 

consists  m  taking  words  for  things}  The  disciples  of  the 
Peripatetic  philosophy  are  persuaded  that  the  ten  categories 
of  Aristotle,  substantial  forms.,  vegetative  souls,  ahhorrcncc  of 
a  vacuum.)  are  something  real.  The  Platonists  have  their 
soul  of  the  world,  and  the  Epicureans  their  endeavor  to- 
wards motion  in  their  atoms.  All  this  is  gibberish,  which, 
in  the  weakness  of  the  human  understanding,  serves  to  pal- 
liate our  ignorance  and  cover  our  errors.^  We  must  be 
content ;  there  are  limits  to  our  knowledge  that  cannot  be 
crossed. 

Well,  then,  what  is  knowledge  ? 

It  is  nothing  but  the  perception  of  the  connection  and 
agreement,  or  disagreement  and  repugnanc}',  of  any  of  our 
ideas.  From  this  definition  it  follows  that  our  knowledge 
does  not  reach  further  than  our  ideas ;  nay,  it  is  even  much 
narrower  than  these,  because  the  connection  between  most 
of  our  simple  ideas  is  unknown.  Hence  we  may  affirm  that, 
altliough  our  knowledge  may  be  carried  much  further  than 
it  has  liitherto  been,  it  will  never  reach  to  all  we  might  de- 
sire to  know  concerning  those  ideas  we  have,  nor  be  able 
to  resolve  all  the  questions  that  might  arise  concerning  any 
of  them.  Tims,  we  have  the  ideas  of  matter  and  tliinking, 
but  possibly  shall  never  be  able  to  know  whether  any  mere  ma- 
terial thing  thinks  or  no  ;  it  being  impossible  for  us  to  discover 
ivhether  Omnipotency  has  not  given  to  some  systems  of  matter 
fitly  disposed.,  a  power  to  perceive  and  think.^  We  are  per- 
fectly conscious  of  the  existence  of  our  soul,  without  know- 
ino-  exactly  wliat  it  is;  and  he  who  will  take  the  trouble  to 
consider  freely  the  difficulties  contained  in  both  the  spirit- 
ualistic and  the  materialistic  hypotheses,  will  scarce  find  his 
reason  able  to  determine  him  fixedly  for  or  (t gainst  the  souVs 
materiality.  Just  as  wc  an;  absolutely  ignorant  whether 
there  is  any  opposition  oi-  coiimMtioii  between  extension  and 
thouglit,  matter  and  perception,  so  too  it  is  impossible  for 

1  B.  HI.,  chap.  X.,  11.  2  Id.  •  H.  IV.,  chap.  III.,  0. 


38S  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

lis  to  know  anything  of  the  union  or  incompatibility  be- 
tween the  secondary  qualities  of  an  object  (between  its 
color,  taste,  and  smell),  on  the  one  hand,  and  between  any 
secondary  quality  and  those  primary  qualities  on  which  it 
depends,  on  the  other. 

Thouo-h  our  knowledsre  does  not  reach  further  than  our 
ideas  and  the  perception  of  their  agreement  or  disagree- 
ment, and  though  ive  have  no  knowledge  of  what  the  things 
they  represent  arc  in  themselves,  it  does  not  follow  that  all 
our  knowledge  is  illusory  and  chimerical. 

We  have  an  intuitive  and  immediate  knowledge  of  our 
own  existence,  even  if  we  are  ignorant  of  the  metaphysical 
essence  of  the  soul.  We  have  a  demonstrative  knowledge 
of  God,  although  our  understanding  cannot  comprehend 
the  immensity  of  his  attributes.  Finally,  we  know  the 
other  things  by  sensation.  It  is  true,  we  do  not  know 
them  immediately,  and  consequently  our  knowledge  is  real 
only  so  far  as  there  is  a  conformity  between  our  ideas  and 
the  reality  of  things. ^  But  we  are  not  absolutely  without 
a  criterion  for  knowing  whether  our  ideas  agree  with  tho 
things  themselves.  It  is  certain  that  our  simple  ideas  cor- 
respond to  external  realities  ;  for  since  the  mind  can  by  no 
means  make  them  to  itself  without  the  intervention  of  the 
senses  (as  witness  men  born  blind),  it  follows  that  they  are 
not  fictions  of  the  imagination,  but  the  natural  and  regular 
productions  of  things  without  us,  really  operating  upon  us. 
The  reality  of  external  things  is  further  proved  by  the  fact 
that  there  is  a  very  great  difference  between  an  idea  that 
comes  from  an  actual  sensation  and  one  that  is  revived  in 
memory,  and  that  the  pleasure  or  pain  which  follows  upon 
an  actual  sensation  does  not  accompany  the  return  of 
these  ideas  when  the  external  objects  are  absent.  Finally, 
our  senses  bear  witness  to  the  truth  of  each  other's  report 
concerning  the  existence  of  sensible  things  without  us. 
1  B.  IV.,  chap.  IV..  a 


JOHN  LOCKE  389 

He  that  sees  a  foe  may,  if  he  doubt  whether  it  be  anything 
more  than  a  bare  fancy,  feel  it  too,  and  be  convinced  by 
putting  his  liand  in  it,  which  certainl}-  could  never  be  put 
into  such  exquisite  pain  by  a  bare  idea  or  phantom.^ 

Let  us  sum  up.  There  are  no  innate  ideas  ;  no  innate 
truths,  maxims,  or  principles ;  no  other  sources  of  knowl- 
edge but  sensation  for  external  tilings,  and  reflection  for 
what  takes  place  witliin  us.  Consequently,  it  is  impos- 
sible to  know  anything  outside  of  what  experience,  be  it 
external  or  internal,  furnishes  us.  Pliilosophy  must  aban- 
don the  transcendent  problems  of  substance,  essence,  and 
the  inner  constitution  of  things,  as  well  as  all  methods 
except  observation,  induction,  and  experience.  The  soul 
exists,  but  we  cannot  know  whether  its  essence  is  material 
or  immaterial.  The  freedom  of  indifference  is  denied. 
God  exists,  but  we  know  nothing  of  his  nature.  Outside 
of  us  exist  solidity,  extension,  figure,  and  motion,  as 
primary  qualities,  or  such  as  inhere  in  the  bodies  them- 
selves. The  substance  of  bodies  is  identical  with  the  sum 
of  these  qualities.  These  qualities  are  distinguished  from 
secondary  qualities  (colors,  sounds,  tastes,  smells,  etc.), 
which  are  merely  sensations  of  the  soul  produced  by  the 
primary  qualities  of  bodies,  and  do  not  exist  as  such  in  the 
objects  themselves.  Finally,  the  reality  of  species  is  abso- 
lutely denied. 

These  doctrines  are  the  culmination  of  tlu-  noiuiualistic 
movement  which  was  inaugurated  l)y  Roscclliuus  and  re- 
newed by  Occam;  they  likewise  form  the  beginning  of 
modern  scientific  philosophy.  As  the  preceding  jjara- 
graphs  show,  the  teachings  of  Descartes  and  Bacon  greatly 
resemble  each  other  in  many  res})eets,  particularly  in  the 
matter  of  final  causes.  A  no  less  noteworthy  fact,  one  that 
may  serve  as  an  argument  against  the  scepticisTu  which  ])ases 
itself  solely  on  the  constant  disagrccniciit  aiiKHig  philoso- 
»  H.  IV.,cli:ip.  XI.,  7. 


890  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

phers,  is  tlie  harmony  existing  between  Locke  and  Spinoza, 
that  is  to  say,  between  empiricism  and  rationalism.  Locke 
agrees  with  his  contemjjorary  at  Amsterdam  not  onl}^  in  his 
repudiation  of  species,  but  in  his  denial  of  the  liberty  of 
indifference,  and  in  his  view  that  ethics  is  as  susceptible  of 
demonstration  as  mathematics. 

The  name  of  the  most  illustrious  scientist  of  the  seven- 
teenth centiu-y  is  connected  with  Locke's  empiricism  sup- 
plemented by  mathematical  speculation.  I  mean  Isa^vg 
Newton  (16-42-1727),  the  founder  of  celestial  mechanics, 
whose  3Iathematical  Principles  of  Natural  Philosophy  ^  is, 
next  to  the  Celestial  Revolutions  of  Copernicus,  the  grandest 
monument  of  modern  science.  His  calculus  of  fluxions, 
wliich  anticipated,  or  at  least  was  discovered  independently 
of,  Leibniz's  integral  and  differential  calculus,  his  analysis 
of  light,  and,  above  all,  his  theory  of  universal  gravitation, 
according  to  which  bodies  are  attracted  to  each  other  in 
direct  proportion  to  their  masses  and  in  inverse  ratio  to  the 
squares  of  their  cUstances,  have  exercised  an  incalculable 
influence  upon  what  he  calls  natural  philosophy. 

Locke's  philosoph}',  with  its  principles  of  observation  and 
analysis,  also  formed  the  nucleus  of  a  distinguished  school 
of  English  moralists.  We  might  mention  the  names  of: 
Shaftesbuky,2     Clarke,^     Hutcheson,*    Ferguson,^ 

^  Natnralis  pMIosophice  principia  niafhcmatica,  London,  1687. 

2  1671-1713.  [Characteristics  of  Me7i,  Manners,  Opinions,  and  Times, 
1711  ;  ed.  by  W.  Hatch,  3  vols.,  London,  1869.  See  Steplien,  Essays  on 
Freethinking  and  Plainspeaking  ;  G.  v.  Gizycki,  Die  Philosophie  Shnfles- 
bury's,  Leipsic  and  Heidelberg,  1876;  Th.  Fowler,  Shaflesbury  and 
HulcJieson,  London.  1882;  Ernest  Albee,  The  Relation  of  Shaftesbury 
and  Hulcheson  to  Utilitarianism  (Phil.  Rev.,  Y.,  1).  —  Tr.] 

8  1675-1729.     Works,  4  folio  vols.,  London,  1738-1742. 

*  1694-1747.  [Inquiry  into  the  Original  of  our  Ideas  of  Beauty  and 
Virtue,  London,  172.5  ff. ;  Philosnphice  moralis  institutio,  Glasgow,  1745 ;  A 
System  of  Moral  Philosophy,  id..  1755.     See  Fowder  and  Albee. — Tr.] 

6  1724-1816.     \ Institution  of  Moral  Philosophy,  London,  1769  ;  tr 
into  German  by  Garve,  Leipsic,  1772.  —  Tr.] 


BERKELEY  391 

Ad^oi  S:mith,^  and  many  others.^  The  freethinkers,^  who 
flourished  in  Great  Britain  and  on  the  Continent  at  the  end 
of  tliis  period,  and  the  philosophers  proper  whom  we  have 
still  to  consider,  are  likewise  descendants  of  Locke.  Eng- 
lish philosophy  is,  to  this  day,  almost  as  empirical  and  pos- 
itivistic  as  in  the  times  of  Bacon  and  Locke.  We  may 
even  claim,  in  general,  that  England,  though  rith  in  think- 
ers of  the  highest  order,  has  never  had  but  a  single  school 
of  philosoph}-,  or,  rather,  that  it  has  never  had  any,  for  its 
philosophy  is  a  perpetual  protest  against  Scholasticism. 

§  58.     Berkeley 

After  what  has  been  said  of  the  agreement  existing  be- 
tween Locke  and  Spinoza,  it  will  hardly  surprise  us  to  see 
a  disciple  of  the  English  pliilosopher  offering  the  hand  of 
friendship  to  Leibniz  and  Malebranche,  the  champions  of 
intellectualism  and  innate  ideas  across  the  sea.     Although 

^  1723-1790.  [Theory  of  Moral  Sentiments,  London,  1759.  Cf. 
Farrer,  Adam  Smith  (^English  Philosophers  Series),  London,  1880.  —  Tu.] 
Works,  5  vols.,  Edinburgh,  1812. 

2  [Cumberland,  De  leyihus  naturce,  London,  1072;  Kiigl.tr.  by  Jean 
Maxwell,  i(]..  1727.  Cf.  Ernest  All)ee,  The;  Ethical  System  of  Richard 
Cumberland  {Phil.  Review,  1895).  Joseph  Butler,  Sermons  u])on  Hu)nan 
Nature,  London,  1726.  Cf.  W.  Collins,  Butler  (Phil.  Classics),  Edin- 
burgh and  London,  1889.  Home,  Essays  on  the  Principles  of  Morality 
and  Natural  Religion,  1751.  Paley,  Principles  (f  Moral  and  Political 
Philosophy,  London,  1785.  J.  Bi'uiliaux.  Princij)lis  (f  Morals  and  Let/is- 
lation,  1789.  See  Gizycki,  Die  Ethik  Hume's,  IJivslau,  1878;  ISIaekiii- 
tosh,  On  the  Progress  of  Ethical  PhUosophy  chiijly  during  the  XVII.  and 
XVIII.  Centuries,  Gil.  hy  \\ .  Whewell, -llh  ed.,  Edinburgh,  1872.  — Th.] 

'  [John  Toland,  Chri^titiuity  not  Mysterious.  London,  1096.  \.  Col- 
lins, A  Discourse  of  Freelhinking,  London.  171.3.  I\r.  Tiiidal,  Christian- 
ity as  Old  as  the  Creation,  J^ondoii,  17-)0.  'I'hoiiiiis  Chubb,  A  Discourse 
concerning  Reason  with  Regard  to  Rdiginn.  Lomli^ii,  17.%.  'I\  Morgan, 
The  Moral  Philosopher,  London,  17-)7  IT.  I.onl  Uoliii^^broke,  Works 
ed.  by  D.  Mollet,  5  voIh.,  1753-51.  (T.  on  lli.'  ihisis.  V.  Lechler,  Ge- 
schichte  des  euglhichen  Deismus,  Stuttgart,  iSll  ;  limit,  History  of  Re- 
ligious Thought  in  England,  I..(>ndon,  1871-73;  and  i^esiie  Stejihen'u 
work  citcfl  \i.   12,  iiotr   11.  —  Tit. J 


392  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

Locke  and  liis  opponents  differ  on  several  essential  points, 
they  reach  practically  the  same  conclusions  concerning  tlie 
world  of  sense.  Malebranche  and  Leibniz  spiritualize  mat- 
ter; they  explain  it  as  a  confused  idea,  and  ultimately 
assume  a  principle  endowed  with  desire  and  perception, 
that  is,  mind.  Locke's  criticism,  on  the  otlier  hand,  does 
not  wholly  reject  the  material  world ;  one  half  of  it  is  re- 
tained. Extension,  form,  and  motion  exist  outside  of  us ; 
but  neither  colors,  nor  sounds,  nor  tastes,  nor  smells  exist 
independently  of  our  sensations.  Moreover,  Locke  attacks 
the  traditional  notion  of  substance,  or  substratum,  and  de- 
fines real  substance  as  a  combination  of  qualities.  Indeed, 
he  goes  so  far  as  to  say  that  the  idea  of  corporeal  substance 
or  matter  is  as  remote  from  our  concejotions  and  apprehen- 
sions as  that  of  spiritual  substance  or  spirit  !  ^  Hence,  all 
that  was  needed  to  arrive  at  the  negation  of  matter  or  abso- 
lute spiritualism  was  to  efface  the  distinction  which  he  had 
cbawn  between  primary  and  secondary  qualities,  and  to  call 
all  sensible  qualities,  without  exception,  secondary. 

This  is  done  by  GeoPvGE  Berkeley,  who  thus  enters 
upon  a  course  against  which  Locke  had  advised  in  vain. 
Berkeley  was  born  in  Ireland,  1685,  of  English  ancestors, 
became  Bishop  of  Cloyne,  1734,  and  died  at  Oxford, 
1753.  The  following  are  his  most  important  works  :  Essay 
toioards  a  New  Theory  of  Vision,'^  Treatise  on  the  Principles 
of  Human  Knowledge,^  Three  Dialogues  between  Hylas  and 
Philonous,'^  Alciphron,  or  the  Minute  Philosopher .^ 

1  Essay  concerning  Human  Understanding,  II.,  ch.  XXIII.,  5. 

2  Dublin,  170.9.  This  remarkable  treatise  clearly  anticipates  the 
modern  principles  of  the  physiology  of  sensation. 

3  Dublin,  1710.     [Krauth's  ed.,  187L] 

4  London,  1713.  [Calcutta,  1893.]  French,  Amsterdam,  1750; 
German,  Rostock,  1756. 

6  London,  1732  ;  French,  The  Hague,  1734  ;  German,  Lenigo,  1737. 
The  works  of  G.  Berkeley,  London,  1781,  1820,  1843,  1871.  This  last 
edition,  published  in  4  vols.,  by  A.  Campbell  Fraser,  is  the  most  com- 


BERKELEY  393 

Locke  recognizes,  with  Descartes  and  Hobbes,  that  color 
is  nothing  apart  from  the  sensation  of  the  person  seeing  it, 
that  sound  exists  only  for  the  hearing,  that  taste  and  smell 
are  mere  sensations,  and  do  not  inhere  in  the  things  them- 
selves. But  in  addition  to  such  secondary  qualities,  which 
do  not  inhere  in  the  objects  but  in  the  perceiving  subject, 
he  assumes  primary  qualities  existing  without  the  mind  and 
belonging  to  an  unthinking  substance :  extension,  figure, 
and  motion.  And  that  is  "\^■here  he  is  wrong.  Just  as  color, 
smell,  and  taste  exist  only  for  the  person  perceiving  them, 
so  extension,  form,  and  motion  exist  only  in  a  mind  that 
perceives  them.  Take  away  the  perceiving  subject,  and  you 
take  away  the  sensible  world.  Existence  consists  in  per- 
ceiving or  being  perceived.  That  which  is  not  perceived 
and  does  not  perceive  does  not  exist.  The  ohjects  do  not 
exist  apart  from  the  subjects  perceiving  them.  According 
to  the  common  view,  these  objects  —  houses,  mountains,  and 
rivers — have  an  existence,  natural  or  real,  distinct  from 
their  being  perceived  by  the  understanding,  and  our  ideas 
of  them  are  copies  or  resemblances  of  all  these  things  witli- 
out  us.  Now,  says  Berkeley,^  either  tliose  exteinal  objects 
or  originals  of  our  ideas  are  perceivable,  or  tliey  are  not 
perceivable.  If  they  are,  then  they  are  ideas  (for  an  idea 
=  something  perceived).  In  that  case,  there  is  no  dilTei- 
ence  between  objects  assumed  to  be  without  us  and  our 
ideas  of  them  ;  and  "  we  liave  gained  our  point."  ''  If  you 
say  they  are  not,  I  appeal  to  any  one  whether  it  be  sense  to 
assert  a  color  is  like  something  which  is  invisibh' ;  liard 
or  soft,  like  something  which  is  intangible ;  and  so  of  the 

I^lete.  ISeleclions  J'rom  Berkeley,  with  introduclioii  and  notes,  l»y  A. 
Campbell  Fraser,  ith  ed.  (revised),  1891.  Cf.  T.  C.  Simon,  Uniccrsal 
hnmaterialism,  London,  18fj'2;  Controversy  between  Ueberweg  and 
Simon,  in  Fichte's  Z.f.  Ph.,  vol.  55,  1860;  vol.  57,  1870;  vol.  59,  1871  ; 
A.  C.  Fraser,  Berkeley  (Philosophical  Cltissic.t),  IMinburgli  and  Lon- 
don, 1881.  — Tk.] 

1  Principles  of  Ifuwuu  Knoirledije,  §  8. 


394  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

rest."  Hence,  there  is  no  real  difference  between  things 
and  our  ideas  of  them.  The  words  seMsiUe  thing  and  idea 
are  synonymous. 

Our  ideas,  or  the  things  which  we  perceive,  are  visibly 
inactive.  It  is  impossible  for  an  idea  to  do  anything,  or  to 
be  the  cause  of  anything.  Hence,  spirit  or  thinking  sub- 
stance alone  can  be  the  cause  of  ideas  (sensible  things).  A 
spirit  is  one  sim})le,  undivided,  active  being,  —  as  it  per- 
ceives ideas,  it  is  called  the  understanding^  and  as  it  produces 
or  otherwise  operates  about  them,  it  is  called  will.  Now 
all  ideas  (perceived  things)  being  essentially  passive,  and 
spirit  eminently  active,  it  follows  that  we  cannot,  strictly 
speaking,  have  an  idea  of  spirit,  will,  or  soul ;  at  any  rate, 
we  cannot  form  as  clear  an  idea  of  it  as  of  a  triangle,  for 
example.  Inasmuch  as  the  idea  is  absolutely  passive  and 
spirit  the  very  essence  of  activity,  the  idea  of  spirit  is  a 
contradiction  in  terms,  and  no  more  like  spirit  than  night 
is  like  the  day.^ 

In  so  far  as  mind  perceives  ideas  it  produces  things ;  and 
these  are  not  two  distinct  operations :  to  perceive  signifies 
to  produce,  and  the  ideas  arc  the  tilings  themselves.  Never- 
theless, the  objects  which  I  perceive  have  not  a  like  de- 
pendence on  my  will.  Nay,  very  many  of  them  do  not 
depend  on  it  at  all.  "  Wlien  in  Ijroad  daylight  I  open  my 
eyes,  it  is  not  in  my  power  to  choose  whether  I  shall  see  or 
no,  or  to  determine  what  particular  objects  shall  present 
themselves  to  my  view."  There  is  therefore  —  thus  Berke- 
ley proves  the  existence  of  God  —  some  other  will  that 

1  Berkeley  repeatedly  points  out  the  impossibility  of  forming  an 
adequate  idea  of  spiritual  things,  such  as  spirit,  soul,  or  will,  and  he 
explains  this  by  the  radical  difference  existing  between  spirit,  the 
essentially  active  thing,  and  idea,  the  essentially  passive  thing  {Prin- 
ciples of  Human  Knowledge,  §§  27,  89, 135).  He  likewise  insists  on  the 
necessity  of  clearly  distinguishing  between  spirit  and  idea,  thus  con- 
tradicting Spinoza,  who  regards  them  as  synonyms  {id.,  §  139). 


BEKKELEY  395 

produces  tliem,  a  more  powerful  spirit  that  imprints  them 
upon  us.  "'  Now  the  set  rules  or  established  methods 
wherein  the  ]Mind  we  depend  on  excites  in  us  the  ideas  of 
sense,  are  called  the  laws  of  nature  ;  and  these  we  learn  by- 
experience.  .  .  .  The  ideas  imprinted  on  the  senses  by  the 
Author  of  natuie  are  commonly  called  real  things  ;  and  those 
excited  in  the  imagination  being  less  regular,  vivid,  and 
constant,  are  more  properly  termed  ideas  or  images  of  things. 
The  ideas  of  sense  are  allowed  to  have  more  in  them,  that 
is,  to  be  more  strong,  orderly,  and  coherent,  than  the  creat- 
ures of  the  mind ;  but  this  is  no  argument  that  they  exist 
without  the  mind."* 

To  the  objection  that  this  makes  the  sensil)le  world,  with 
its  sun,  stars,  mountains,  and  livers,  a  chimera  or  an  illu- 
sion, Berkeley  answers  that  he  does  not  in  the  least  doubt 
the  existence  of  things.  He  is  even  Avilling  to  accept  the 
term  corporeal  substance  if  we  mean  by  it  a  combination  of 
sensible  qualities,  such  as  extension,  solidity,  weight,  and 
the  like.  But  he  utterly  repudiates  the  scholastic  notion 
which  conceives  matter  as  a  substratum,  or  support  of  acci- 
dents or  qualities  without  the  mind  perceiving  them,  as  a 
stupid,  thoughtless  somcv:hat,  which  can  neither  perceive  nor 
be  perceived,  existing  alongside  of,  and  independent  of,  llie 
thinking  substance.^  The  objection  that,  according  to  his 
principles,  we  eat  and  drink  ideas,  and  are  clothed  with 
ideas,  is  not  more  serious  tlian  tlie  preceding  one.  It  over- 
looks the  fact  that  he  em])loys  tlie  word  idea,  not  in  its 
usual  signification,  Ijut  in  the  sense  of  perceived  thing.  But 
it  is  certain  that  our  victuals  and  our  ai)parel  are  things 
which  we  perceive  immediatel}^  by  our  senses,  that  is,  ideas. 
Finally,  it  is  held  that,  according  to  his  teaching,  the  sun, 
moon,  and  trees  exist  f)idy  w])en  tliey  are  perceived,  and 
are  anniliilated  when  we  no  longer  perceive  tlitiii.  They 
woulil    iiiidoul)1i-dl V  (•(■ase  to  exist   if  theic  were  no  one  to 

1    J'rinrijiiis  tif  lluindn  Knowlulijf,  §  75. 


396  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

perceive  them  ;  for  existence  consists  in  being  perceived  or 
in  perceiving.  But  if  our  mind  cannot  perceive  tliem,  an- 
other spirit  can  perceive  them  or  continue  their  existence, 
so  to  spealv  ;  for  tliough  Berkeley  denies  the  objective  exist- 
ence of  bodies,  he  assumes  a  plurality  of  spiritual  beings. 

It  is  true,  mankind  and  even  philosophers  steadfastly 
assume  the  existence  of  matter.  The  explanation  is  simple. 
They  are  conscious  that  they  are  iLot  the  authors  of  their 
own  sensations,  and  evidently  know  that  they  are  imprinted 
from  without.  They  have  recourse  to  the  liypothesis  of 
matter  as  the  external  origin  of  their  ideas,  instead  of  de- 
riving them  directly  from  the  Creative  Spirit  which  alone 
can  produce  them,  (1)  because  they  are  not  aware  of  the 
contradiction  involved  "  in  supposing  things  like  unto  our 
ideas  existing  without;  (2)  because  the  Supreme  Spirit, 
Avhich  excites  those  ideas  in  our  minds,  is  not  marked  out 
and  limited  to  our  view  by  any  particular  finite  collection 
of  sensible  ideas,  as  human  agents  are  by  their  size,  complex- 
ion, limbs,  and  motions  ;  and  (3)  because  his  operations  are 
regular  and  uniform.  Whenever  the  course  of  nature  is 
interrupted  by  a  miracle,  men  are  ready  to  own  the  presence 
of  a  superior  agent.  But  when  we  see  things  go  on  in  the 
ordinary  course  they  do  not  excite  in  us  any  reflection." 

The  negation  of  matter  as  a  substance  without  the  mind 
silences  a  number  of  difficult  and  obscure  questions  :  Can 
a  corporeal  substance  think  ?  Is  matter  infinitely  divisible  ? 
How  does  it  operate  on  spirit  ?  These  and  the  like  inquir- 
ies are  entirely  banished  from  philosophy.  The  division  of 
sciences  is  simplified,  and  human  knowledge  reduced  to  two 
great  classes  :  knowledge  of  ideas  and  knowledge  of  spirits.^ 
Moreover,  this  philosophy  is  alone  capable  of  overcoming 
scepticism.     If  we  assume,  with  the  ancient  schools,  that  a 

1  Principles  of  Human  Knoivledge,  §  86.  Berkeley  afterwards  (§  89; 
adds  a  third  group  of  knowledge :  that  of  relations  existing  either  be- 
tween things  or  ideas  (physical  sciences  and  mathematical  sciences). 


BERKELEY  397 

substance  exists  without  the  mind,  and  that  our  ideas  are 
images  of  it,  then  scepticism  is  inevitable.  On  that  hypoth- 
esis, we  see  only  the  appearances,  and  not  the  real  qualities 
of  things.  What  may  be  the  extension,  figure,  or  motion 
of  anything  really  and  absolutely,  or  in  itself,  it  is  impos- 
sible for  us  to  know ;  we  know  only  the  relations  which 
things  bear  to  our  senses.  All  we  see,  hear,  and  feel  is  but 
a  phantom.  All  these  doubts  are  inevitable  as  soon  as  we 
distinguish  between  ideas  and  things.^ 

The  absolute  spiritualism  of  Berkeley  is  a  unitary,  homo- 
geneous system,  unquestionably  superior  to  the  hybrid  phi- 
losophies of  Descartes  and  Wolff.  Nay,  it  is,  in  my  opinion, 
the  only  metaphysic  that  may  be  successfully  opposed  to 
materialism,  for  it  alone  takes  into  consideration  the  partial 
truth  of  its  objections.2  It  overcomes  the  dualism  of  sub- 
stances, and  thus  satisfies  the  most  fundamental  demand  of 
the  philosophical  spirit,  —  the  demand  for  unity.  In  this 
respect  it  has  all  the  advantages  of  radical  materialism 
without  being  hampered  by  its  difficulties.  It  greatly  re- 
sembles the  system  of  Leibniz,  but  excels  it  in  clearness, 
consistency,  boldness,  and  decision.  Leibniz's  opinions  on 
matter,  space,  and  time  are  iiiidecided,  conciliatory,  and 
even  obscure.  Berkeley  shows  no  sign  of  hesitation.  An 
earnest  and  profoundly  lionest  tliinker,  he  tolls  us,  in  a 
straightforward  manner,  that  the  existence  of  matter  is  an 
illusion;  that  time  is  nothing,  abstracted  from  the  succes- 
sion of  ideas  in  our  minds  ;  ^  that  space  cannot  exist  willi- 
out  the  mind;*    tliat  minds    alone  exist;    and   tli;tt  these 

1  Kant's  conclusions  fully  confirni  these  profound  remarl^s  of 
Berkeley  (PrincipU-s,  §§  8')  fF.).  It  was  because  the  Cr!li(jufi  of  Pure 
Reason  asserted  the  dogma  comhated  hy  the  Irish  idiilosojiher  (the 
;//in(7-?n-j<,<i?{/' considered  as  existing  indiqiendently  of  the  phenomenon) 
that  it  became  involved  in  sci'pticism. 

*  Cf.  our  conclurtionH  in  §  71. 

'  Pnnciplex,  §98.  ■*  /'A.  §  118. 


898  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

perceive  ideas  either  by  themselves  or  through  the  action 
of  the  all-powerful  Spirit  on  which  they  depend.^ 

But  besides  these  advantages,  his  philosophy  also  posses- 
ses disadvantages.  We  need  not  repeat  the  petty  objection 
of  his  supposed  adversaries,  who  make  him  say  that  we  eat 
and  drink  ideas  and  are  clothed  with  ideas.  We  may,  how- 
ever, ask.  What,  on  his  theory,  becomes  of  the  vegetable 
and  animal  kingdoms,  which  the  more  realistic  Leibniz  re- 
gards as  having  objective  existence  ?  If  it  be  true  that 
unperceiving  and  unperceived  things  do  not  exist,  what 
becomes  of  the  soul  in  deep  sleep  ?  If  the  picture  opposite 
to  my  bed  exists  only  because  I  see  it,  what  minds  perceive 
it  after  I  have  gone  to  sleep,  and  thus  hinder  it  from  ceas- 
ing to  exist  ?  How  shall  we  picture  to  ourselves  a  plurality 
of  human  individuals,  if  space  exists  in  the  mind  only  ? 
How  does  Berkeley  know  that  there  are  other  minds  than 
his  own  ?  How,  moreover,  does  the  creative  Spirit  produce 
sensible  ideas  in  us  ?  All  these  points  and  many  others  re- 
main unexplained ;  for  his  deus  ex  machina  explains  nothing, 
and  his  theory  of  intervention  is  of  no  more  avail  than  oc- 
casionalism and  pre-established  harmony.  He  is  both  a 
thorough-going  theologian  and  a  philosopher ;  his  interests 
are  both  scientific  and  religious,  and  he  attacks  materialism  2 
not  only  as  a  theoretical  error  but  as  the  source  of  the  most 
serious  heresies.^ 

1  Principles,  §  155. 

2  By  materialism  Berkeley  understands  not  only  the  negation  of 
spiritual  substance,  but  the  view  that  there  existi5,  independently  of  the 
mind,  a  substance,  or  substratum,  of  sensible  qualities,  which  it  per- 
ceives. To  assume  the  reality  of  matter  is  enough  to  stamp  one  as  a 
materialist  in  the  Berkeleyan  sense. 

8  §§  133  ff.  — A  system  wholly  similar  to  that  cf  Berkeley  was  taught 
by  his  contemporary  and  colleague,  the  churchman  Arthur  Collier 
(1680-1732),  a  disciple  of  Malebrauche  and  author  oi  Claris  universalis, 
or  a  Neio  Inquiry  after  Truth,  Being  a  Demonstration  of  the  Non-existence 
or  Impossibility  of  an  External  World,  London,  1713.  [See  G.  Lyon,  Un 
idealiste  Anglais  au  XVIII'.  siecle  {Revue  phil.  vol.  10,  1880).  —  Tr.] 


CONDILLAC  399 

§  59.     Condillac 

The  philosophy  of  Locke  was  introduced  into  France  by 
Voltaire.^  Here  it  found  an  original  follower  in  the  abbot 
Etienne  Bonnot  de  Condillac,^  the  founder  of  absolute 
sensationalism. 

Locke  distinguishes  two  sources  of  ideas :  sensation  and 
reflection,  wliile  Condillac,  in  liis  Traitc  des  sensations  rec- 
ognizes but  one,  making  reflection  a  product  of  sensibilit3\ 
His  proof  is  ingenious.  He  imagines  a  statue,  which  is 
organized  and  alive,  like  ourselves,  but  hindered  b}'  its 
marble  exterior  from  having  sensations.  Its  intellectual  and 
moral  life  advances  as  the  various  parts  of  this  covering  are 
removed. 

Let  us  first  remove  the  marble  covering  its  olfactorj'- 
organs.  Now  the  statue  has  only  the  sense  of  smell,  and 
cannot,  as  yet,  perceive  anything  but  odors.  It  cannot 
acquire  any  idea  of  extension,  form,  sound,  or  color.     A 

^  1094-1778.  Lettres  sur  les  Anglais,  1728;  £lemenls  de  la  pJiiloso- 
pJiie  de  Newton,  mift  a  la  porlee  de  tout  le  monde,  Amsterdam,  1738  ;  La 
metaplnjsique  de  Nevlon  ou  parallele  des  sentiments  de  Neivto7i  et  de  Leib- 
niz, Amsterdam,  1740  ;  Candide  ou  sur  roptimisme,  1757  ;  Le  philosnphe 
ignorant,  1767.  Simultaneously  with  these  writings  of  Voltaire,  the 
Entretiens  sur  la  pluralite  des  mondes  of  Fontenelle  (1657-1757),  and 
the  works  of  Maupertuis  (1098-1759)  made  known  to  the  French  the 
labors  of  Copernicus  and  Newton,  which  were  continued  by  Lagrange 
and  Laplace  (page  11).  [On  eighteenth  century  philosoi^hy  in  France 
see  Damiron,  ^r^moires  pour  servir  a  Vhisloire  de  la  philosophic  au  X  VIIL 
siecle,  3  vols.,  Paris,  1858-64  ;  and  IJarlholmess  (p.  1'2).  On  Voltaire 
see  the  works  of  Bersot,  Strau.ss,  John  Morley,  Desnoiresterres,  and 
Mayr.  — Tr.] 

2  Born  at  Grenoble,  1715;  tutor  of  the  Prince  of  Parma;  abbot  of 
Mureaux  ;  died  1780.  Besides  the  Traile  des  sensations  (1754),  he  jiro- 
duced  the  followiug  works  :  Essai  sur  I'origine  des  counaissances  huintnnes 
(1710);  Traite' des  systemes  (171'.)) ;  Traitc  des  animnux,\l'ib\  Logiipie 
(posthuniou.s,  1781)  ;  Laugue  des  auimaux  (imst humous).  Comi)lete 
works,  Pari.s,  1798;  1803,  32  vols,  in  12mo.  F.  ilethord,  Condillac  ou 
I'empirisme  et  le  rationalisme,  Paris,  1804. 


400  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

rose  is  placed  before  it.  From  the  impression  produced  by 
it,  a  sensation  of  smell  arises.  Henceforth  it  is,  from  our 
point  of  view,  a  statue  that  smells  a  rose ;  in  reality,  how- 
ever, it  is  nothing  but  the  odor  of  this  flower.  The  statue 
does  not  and  cannot,  as  yet,  possess  the  slightest  notion  of 
an  object ;  it  does  not  know  itself  as  the  subject  of  sensa- 
tion; its  consciousness,  its  "me,"  is  nothing  but  the  scent 
of  the  rose,  or  rather,  \vhat  ive  call  the  scent  of  the  rose. 

Since  this  impression  and  the  resulting  sensation  is  the 
only  thing  with  which  our  statue  is  occupied,  that  single 
sensation  becomes  attention. 

We  take  away  the  rose.  Our  statue  retains  a  trace,  or 
an  echo,  as  it  were,  of  the  odor  perceived.  This  trace  or 
echo  is  ■memory. 

We  place  a  violet,  a  jasmine,  and  some  asafoetida  before 
the  statue.  Its  first  sensation,  the  odor  of  the  rose,  was 
neither  agreeable  nor  disagreeable,  there  being  nothing  to 
compare  it  with.  But  now  other  impressions  and  other 
sensations  arise.  These  it  compares  with  its  memory 
images.  It  finds  some  agreeable,  others  disagreeable. 
Henceforth  the  statue  desires  the  former,  and  rejects  the 
latter.  Towards  these  it  entertains  feelings  of  aversion, 
hatred,  and  fear,  towards  those,  feelings  of  sympathy,  affec- 
tion, and  hope.  That  is  to  say,  from  the  sensations  experi- 
enced by  it,  and  their  comparison,  arise  the  passions,  desires, 
and  volitions.  I  will  signifies  /  desire.  The  will  is  not  a 
new  faculty  added  to  sensibility ;  it  is  a  transformation  ol 
sensation ;  sensation  becomes  desire  and  impulse  after 
having  been  attention,  memory,  comparison,  pleasure,  and 
pain. 

From  comparison,  that  is,  from  the  multiplication  of 
sensations,  arise,  on  the  other  hand,  judgment,  reflection, 
reasoning,  abstraction,  in  a  word,  the  understanding.  Our 
statue  perceives  disagreeable  odors,  and  at  the  same  time 
recalls  other  odors  which  gave  it  pleasure ;  these  past  sen- 


CONDILLAC  401 

sations  reappear  in  opposition  to  the  present  sensation,  not 
as  immediate  sensations,  but  as  copies  or  images  of  these 
sensations,  tliat  is,  as  ideas.  It  directs  tlie  attention  to  two 
different  ideas  and  compares  them.  When  tliere  is  double 
attention,  there  is  comparison ;  for  to  be  attentive  to  two 
ideas,  and  to  compare  them,  is  the  same  thing.  Now,  the 
statue  cannot  compare  two  ideas  without  perceiving,  some 
difference  or  resemblance  between  them :  to  perceive  such 
relations  is  to  judge.  The  acts  of  comparison  and  judgment 
are  therefore  merely  attention ;  it  is  thus  that  sensation  be- 
comes successively  attention,  comparison,  and  judgment. 

Some  odors,  that  is,  some  of  the  states  experienced  by  the 
statue,  yielded  pleasure,  others  yielded  pain.  Hence  it  will 
retain  in  memory  the  ideas  of  pleasure  and  pain  common  to 
several  states  or  sensations.  Pleasure  is  a  quality  common 
to  the  rose-sensation,  the  violet-sensation,  and  the  jasmine- 
sensation  ;  pain  is  a  c{uality  common  to  the  odor  of  asa- 
foetida,  decaying  matter,  etc.  These  common  cliaracteristics 
are  distinguished,  separated,  ahsfr acted,  from  the  particular 
sensations  with  wliich  they  are  associated,  and  thus  arise 
the  abstract  notions  of  pleasure,  pain,  number,  duration,  etc. 
These  are  general  idea.<!,  being  common  to  several  states  or 
modes  of  being  of  the  statue.  We  do  not  need  a  special 
faculty  to  explain  them.  Abstraction  itself,  tlie  highest 
function  of  the  understanding,  is  a  modification  of  sensa- 
tion, which,  consequently,  embraces  all  the  faculties  of  the 
soul.  The  mner  perception^  or  tlie  me.,  is  merely  the  sum  of 
the  .sensations  we  novj  have,  and  those  which  tvr  hare  had. 

Condillac  endows  his  statue  with  a  single  sense,  —  tlie 
sense  of  smell,  — nml  then  evolves  all  mental  faculties  out 
of  sensation.^  Any  one  of  the  live  senses  would  have 
served  his  pui])f)se  equally  ANidl. 

^  Condillac'fl  ol)j<'ct  in  clioosiiig  tlio  least  important  of  Uio  five  souses 
is  plain.  If  the  sense  of  smell  sufficos  to  make  a  <ciiii)ili(i'  soul,  tln'ii, 
a  y*or//V<r/,  the  coiiiliination  of  all  five  rciisl-s,  or  tin'  IdIiI  sctisihility, 
will  HuHicfj;.  '^^ 


402  MODEEN   PHILOSOPHY 

If  now,  we  join  to  smell :  taste,  hearing,  and  sight,  by 
taking  away  one  marble  covering  after  another,  then  tastes, 
sounds,  and  colors  will  be  added  to  the  odors  perceived  by 
the  statue,  and  its  intellectual  life  will  become  so  much 
richer,  more  manifold,  and  complex. 

There  is,  however,  an  essential  idea  which  neither  smell, 
nor  taste,  nor  hearing,  nor  even  sight,  can  yield,  and  that  is 
the  idea  of  an  ohject,  the  idea  of  an  external  world.  Colors, 
sounds,  odors,  and  tastes  are  mere  sensations  or  states,  not, 
as  yet,  referred  to  external  objects.  Before  external  causes 
can  be  substituted  for  its  sensations,  the  statue  must  be  en- 
dowed with  the  most  important  of  all  senses :  the  sense  of 
touch.  Touch  alone  can  reveal  to  us  the  objective  world, 
by  giving  us  the  ideas  of  extension,  form,  solidity,  and  body. 
Even  sight  cannot  suggest  them.  Persons  born  blind  can- 
not, upon  receiving  their  siglit,  distinguish  l)etween  a  ball 
and  a  block,  a  cube  and  a  sphere,  until  they  t(mch  these 
objects.^  On\j  after  having  touched  things  do  we  refer  the 
impressions  received  by  our  other  senses,  such  as  colors, 
sounds,  tastes,  and  smells,  to  objects  existing  outside  of  us. 
Hence,  touch  is  the  highest  sense,  and  the  guide  of  the 
other  senses  ;  it  is  touch  which  teaches  the  eye  to  distribute 
colors  in  nature. 

Conclusion  and  summary :  All  our  ideas,  without  excep- 
tion, are  derived  from  the  senses,  and  especially  from  touch. 
Though  Condillac  is  a  sensationalist,  and  a  sensationalist 
in  the  strict  sense  of  the  term,  he  1^  not,  on  that  account,  a 
materialist.2     He  differs  from  Locke,  who  grants  that  mat- 

1  Allusion  to  Cheselden's  celebrated  operation. 

2  Sensationalism  is  usually,  but  erroneously,  confused  with  materi- 
alism. Sensationalism  is  a  theory  concerning  the  origin  of  our  ideas, 
an  explanation  of  the  phenomenon  of  mind  {eine  Erkenntnisstheorie,  as 
the  Germans  would  say),  while  materialism  is  an  ontology,  a  system  of 
metaphysics.  Sensationalism  and  materialism  are  undoubtedly  closely 
related,  for  materialism  is  necessarily  sensational.  But  the  reverse  is 
not  true. 


CUNDILLAC  403 

ter  can  think,  and  agrees  ^vith  the   Cartesians  that  com- 
ptHinds  cannot  think,  and  eonseqnently  that  the  subject  of 
sensation  cannot  be  corporeal  in  its  nature.     The  move- 
ments of  the  body  are,  according-  to  him,  merely  occasional 
causes  of  mental  phenomena.     ISIoreover,  it  is  not  certain 
tliat  the  body  is  an  extended  substance,  as  Descartes  claims. 
But  even  if  there  were  no  real  extension,  that  would  not  he  a 
suijicient  reason  for  denijing  the  existence  of  bodies.     Hence 
the  negation  of  extension  as  such  does  not,  according  to 
Condillac,  involve  the  acceptance  of  the  innnaterialism  of 
Berkeley.     He  agrees  with  Leibniz  that  bodies  might  really 
exist  and  yet  not  be  extended  in  themselves,  that  their  es- 
sence might  consist  of  something  other  than  extension,  and 
that  this  might  be  merely  a  subjective  phenomenon,  or  a 
mode  of  perceiving  them.     At  all  events,  there  is  something 
other  than  ourselves ;  that  cannot  be  doubted.     But  what 
may  be  the  nature  of  this  "  other  thing,"  the  statue  does  not 
know,  nor  do  we  know.     That  is,  Condillac,  the  consistent 
disciple  of  Locke,  is  a  sceptic  in  metaphysics,  but  his  scep- 
ticism does  not,  as  we  have  just  seen,  call  in  question  the 
existence  of  matter,  nor,  consequently,  materialism,  using 
the  term  in  the  Berkeleyan  sense.     If  to  assume  the  reality 
of  matter  is  to  be  a  materialist,  then,  of  course,  he  is  a  ma- 
terialist.    But  in  tliat  case,  Descartes  is  also  a  materialist. 
jMoreover,  he  too,  like  Descartes,  curries  favor  with  the 
Church,  which,  in  his  capacity  as  a  priest,  he  dare  not 
openly  antagonize.     True,  the  human  soul  is  merely  the 
recipient  of  sense-impressions,  and  devoid  of  all  faculties  of 
kiiowh'dgc  except  sensation;  it  is  nothing  Init  a  prolonged 
and  infinitely  modified  sensation.     But  that  does  not  mean, 
lie  intimates,  tliat  it  has  aiwai/s  l)een  restricted  to  sensation 
as  tlie  source  of  trnth :  its  ])resent  nature  dates  from  the 
I-'aih     Perhaps  it  was  en<l<)wed  with  a  higher  faculty  hcfore 
the  Fall.     All  we  can  say  is  that  this  is  no  longer  the  case. 
It  is  hard  to  take  th('S(!  restrictions  of  the  ahhe  of  iMu- 
reaux  seriously. 


404  MODERN   PHILOSOPHY' 

§  60.     Progress  of  Materialism  i 

The  empirical  school's  contempt  for  metaphysics  refers 
only  to  the  clualistic  metaphysics,  and  not  to  the  system  of 
Ilobbes,  Gassendi,  and  Democritus.  Philosophy  gradually 
abandoned  dualism.  It  might  have  adopted  the  im materi- 
alism of  Berkeley  and  Collier ;  but  this  hypothesis,  though 
satisfying  the  monistic  instinct,  had  against  it  the  evidence 
of  facts  and  the  native  realism  of  the  French  and  English 
minds.  Hence,  philosophy  continued,  in  spite  of  Berkeley, 
to  concede  'primary  qualities  to  bodies.  True,  tastes,  smells, 
colors,  sounds,  and  temperature  are  nothing  but  sensations 
of  the  subject  which  perceives  them,  and  do  not  exist,  as 
such,  in  the  things  themselves  and  outside  of  us.  But  ex- 
tension, impenetrability,  figure,  motion,  etc.,  are  primary 
qualities,  i.  e.,  inherent  in  a  reality  external  to  and  inde- 
pendent of  our  perception,  and  of  these  qualities  bodies,  or 
matter,  are  composed.  Hence,  the  latter  has  objective  real- 
ity, and  does  not  owe  its  existence  to  our  sensation,  i.  e.,  to 
the  mind,  as  Berkeley  claimed. 

The  belief  in  the  objective  and  absolute  existence  of 
bodies  persisted.  Hobbcs's  assertion  that  all  suhstances  are 
bodies,  and  the  hypothesis  of  Locke,  according  to  which 
matter  can  think,  seemed  less  presumptuous  when  Leibniz, 
repudiating  the  Cartesian  teaching,  substituted  for  extended 
matter,  matter  endowed  with  force,^  a  kind  of  intermediate 
reality,  or  connecting  link  between  brutal  matter  and  pure 
spirit.  This  conception  made  it  possible  for  one  to  assume 
a  real  and  physical  action  of  body  on  mind,  without  fear  of 
materializing  spirit.  Experience,  moreover,  on  whose  ter- 
ritory the  new  philosophy  had  firmly  established  itself  for 
all  time  to  come,  advanced  the  cause  of  materialism  by  its 

^  See  Damiron,  Me'moires  pour  servir  a  Vhistoire  de  la  philosoph'e  au 
dix-huitihne  siecle,  §§  8  ff. 
•^  Cf.  pp.  310  f. 


PROGRESS  OF  MATERIALISM  405 

emphatic  declaration  that  body  acts  on  mind,  and  that  the 
mental  world  depends  on  the  physical  world. 

John  Toland  (1670-1721),  a  fellow-countryman  of 
Berkeley,  whose  genius,  character,  and  fate  remind  one  of 
Bruno  and  Vanini,  becomes  the  champion  of  materialism  in 
his  Letters  to  Serena^  and  his  Pantheisticon  (1710).  Matter 
is  not,  according  to  him,  the  "  extended  substance  "  of  Des- 
cartes, an  inert,  lifeless  mass  that  receives  its  motion  from 
a  transcendent  deity  ;  it  is  an  active  substance,  that  is,  force. 
Extension,  impenetrability,  and  action  are  three  distinct 
notions,  but  not  three  different  things;  they  are  simply 
three  different  modes  of  conceiving  one  and  the  same  mat- 
ter.2  Matter  is  originally  and  necessarily  active,  and  hence 
does  not  receive  its  motion  from  Avithout;  motion  is  its 
essential  and  inseparable  property,  —  as  essential  and  in- 
separable as  extension  and  impenetrability.  Since  matter 
as  such  is  force,  motion,  and  life,  we  do  not  need  either  a 
soul  of  the  world,  in  order  to  explain  universal  life,  or  au 
individual  soul  as  the  source  of  i)sychical  life  and  the  A'ital 
principle  of  the  organic  body.  The  liylozoistic  and  vital- 
istic  hypothesis  is  based  on  the  erroneous  conception  that 
matter  is  inert,  that  it  is  merely  tlie  theatre  and  the  means, 
and  never  the  source,  of  action.  The  abandonment  of  this 
false  view  will  result  in  the  collapse  of  the  dualistic  theory. 
Body  ceases  to  be  a  substance  that  cannot  think,  and  soul  or 
mind  is  simply  one  of  its  functions.  Furthermore,  thought 
does  not  belong  to  substance  in  general,  as  Spinoza  assumes ;  ^ 
matter,  though  active,  is  unconscious  in  itself,  and  becomes 

^  Letters  to  Serena  (Serena  is  Queen  Sophia  Cli.irlotto  of  Prussia, 
the  friend  of  Leibniz,  at  whose  court  Toland  lived  from  1701-17012), 
followed  by  a  Refutation  of  Spinoza,  and  a  treatise  on  movement  as  the 
essential  jtroiK^rty  of  matter  (London,  1701).  [('!'.  (!.  Herthold,  J(;///i 
Toland  und  dcr  Monismus  ilrr  (Jcgenwdrt,  I  Icidcllirri,',  lS7(i  ] 

2  Let  tern  to  Serena,  pp.  230  ft". 

•  Deus  est  res  coyilans  (^Elli.,  II.,  I'rop.  2). 


406  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

conscious  only  in  the  brain  (a  view  already  held  by  Demo- 
critus).  There  can  be  no  thought  without  a  brain  ;  thotujlit 
is  the  function  of  this  organ,  as  taste  is  a  function  of  thfi 
tongue.^ ' 

Less  bold  in  form  but  the  same  in  substance  are  the  con- 
clusions of  the  Observations  on  Man^  the  work  of  the  phy- 
sician and  naturalist  David  Hartley  (1704-1757).  There 
can  be  no  thought  without  a  brain.  The  brain  is  not  the 
thinking  subject;  the  soul  is  the  thinking  subject.  But 
though  the  soul  is  entirely  distinct  from  the  body,  it  cannot 
be  regarded  as  essentially  different  from  corporeal  substance. 
The  action  of  the  brain  on  thought  is  estal:)lished  by  the 
facts,  and  proves  conclusively  that  matter  and  mind  differ 
in  degree  and  not  in  essence,  for  there  can  be  no  reciprocal 
action  between  two  essentially  different  substances.  The 
so-called  material  world  represents  an  ascending  scale  of 
substances,  or  rather  forces ;  these  become  more  and  more 
refined  and  spiritualized,  as  we  pass  from  mineral  masses  to 
light.  The  distance  from  the  stone  to  the  luminous  agent 
is  so  great  that  one  is  tempted  to  oppose  the  latter  to  the 
former  as  spiritual  substances  are  opposed  to  material 
substances.  And  yet  no  serious  thinker  would  dream  of 
removing  optical  phenomena  from  the  domain  of  physics. 
The  infinitely  subtile,  refined,  and  intangible  substance 
called  light  is  none  the  less  matter.  Why,  then,  should  we 
not  assume  that  the  above-mentioned  series  continues  be- 
yond ether,  and  finally  ends  in  thought  or  soul  ?  This 
mental  agent  is  so  far  removed  from  light,  in  fineness  and 
mobility,  as  the  latter  is  from  the  stone  and  wood,  without 
on  that  account  ceasing  to  he  matter. 

1  Paniheisticon,  p.  15. 

2  Observations  on  Man,  his  Frame,  his  Duty,  and  his  Expectations, 
London,  1749  ;  6th  ed.,  1834.  [Cf.  G.  S.  Bower,  Hartley  and  James 
Mill  {Engl.  PhUosophers),  London,  1881;  B.  Schoenlank,  Hartley  und 
Priestley,  die  Begriinder  des  Assoc iationisinus  in  England,  Halle,  1882. 
—  Tk.i 


PROGRESS  OF  MATERIALISM  407 

The  white  medullary  substance  of  the  brain  and  the  spinal 
marrow  constitute  the  seat  of  sensation  and  the  source  of 
voluntary  motion.  Every  moditication  of  this  substance  is 
accompanied  by  a  corresponding  modification  in  our  soul- 
life.  The  modifications  of  the  cerebral  and  nervous  sul> 
stance,  corresponding  to  those  of  the  soul,  are  vibrations  or 
"  tremblings  "  produced  by  external  excitations  and  trans- 
mitted tlu'ough  the  sensory  nerves  to  the  central  portion  of 
the  brain.  The  nervous  substance,  which  may  be  perceived 
by  our  senses  and  experimented  on,  most  probably  contains 
an  infinitely  subtile  and  mobile  fluid,  which  might  be  iden- 
tified with  electricity  ^  and  ether.  The  vibrations  of  tliis 
fluid  or  ether  cause  sensations.  When  these  vibrations  are 
reproduced  a  certain  number  of  times,  they  leave  traces  ; 
these  traces  are  our  ideas.  Our  soul-life  depends  entirely 
on  the  association  of  these  ideas,  which,  in  turn,  depends 
on  the  association  of  sensations,  i.  e.,  vibrations  of  ether  or 
nervous  fluid.  True,  these  vibrations  are  not,  as  yet,  sen- 
sations ;  they  affect  the  body,  and  sensations  affect  the  soul ; 
they  belong  to  the  domain  of  physiology,  and  sensations 
belong  to  the  domain  of  psychology.  But  the  fact  tliat  the 
latter  are  effects  of  the  former  conclusively  proves  that  cor- 
poreal substance  is  analogous,  if  not  identical,  with  think- 
ing substance. 

Joseph  Ppjestley  (1733-1804),  tlieologian,  philosopher, 
and  naturalist,  to  whom  we  are  indebted  for  tlie  discovery 
of  oxygen,^  considers,  in  his  Disquisitions  relating  to  Matter 
and  Spirit,^  tlie  proofs  of  liis  predecessors,  ancient  as  well 

*  As  lia.s  Ijeen  done,  in  our  ooutury,  }>y  the  Berlin  scientist,  E.  tlu 
Bois-Kcyniond. 

'  Thus  nain<'<l  l)y  Lavoisirr,  wlio  iccoL^ni/.cil  it  as  one  of  the  essen- 
tial ehnnents  of  atmospheric  air. 

'  London,  1777.  \'l'hi:  Dnrlrinr  of  P/iilos()/)li!r(it  Nrci'ssili/.  London, 
1777;  Free  DiscunKioua  of  the  iJavlrincs  af  M<iiiri<ilism,  Londnn,  177^ 
-Tic] 


408  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

as  modern,  in  favor  of  the  materiality  of  the  soul,  and  adds 
some  arguments  of  his  own : 

1.  If  the  soul  is  an  inextended  substance,  it  does  not 
really  exist  in  space ;  for  to  be  in  space  is  to  occupy  a  por- 
tion of  it,  be  it  never  so  small.  Hence  the  soul  is  not  in 
the  body :  such  is  the  absurd  conclusion  which  Cartesian 
spiritualism  compels  us  to  draw. 

2.  Principia  non  sunt  multiplicanda  prcctcr  necessitatem. 
Now,  there  is  no  need  of  assuming  for  thought  a  new  and 
essentially  different  principle  from  the  principles  by  which 
science  explains  the  phenomena  of  light,  electricity,  etc., 
which  show  striking  similarities  with  psychical  phenomena. 

3.  The  development  of  the  soul  runs  parallel  with  that 
of  the  body,  on  which  it  wholly  depends. 

4.  There  is  not  a  single  idea  of  which  the  mind  is  pos- 
sessed but  what  may  be  proved  to  have  come  to  it  from  the 
bodily  senses,  or  to  have  been  consequent  upon  the  percep- 
tions of  sense. 

5.  Our  ideas  of  external  objects,  —  the  idea  of  a  tree,  for 
example,  —  consist  of  parts,  like  their  objects.  How  is  it 
possible  that  such  ideas  should  exist  in  an  indivisible  and 
absolutely  simple  soul  ? 

6.  The  soul  ripens  and  declines.  How  can  an  absolutely 
simple  being  without  parts  be  increased,  modified,  or  dimin- 
ished ? 

7.  If  man  has  an  immaterial  soul,  every  animal,  which 
feels,  perceives,  remembers,  combines,  and  judges,  must 
have  one  also. 

8.  What  is  the  use  of  the  body,  and  why  is  the  soul  as- 
sociated with  it,  if  it  can  feel,  tliink,  and  act  independently 
of  it? 

9.  Spiritualism  claims  that  an  extended  being  cannot 
think.  But  is  it  not  still  more  inconceivable  that  an  inex- 
tended entity  —  a  simple  mathematical  point  —  should 
contain  an  infinite  number  of  ideas,  feelings,  and  volitions, 


PROGRESS  OF  MATERLVLISM  409 

as  the  human  soul  does?      The  soul  is  a  reality  no  less 
manifold  than  the  universe  Avliich  it  reflects. 

10.  The  will  is  determined  by  motives,  reasons,  and  argu- 
ments. Hence,  spiritualism  objects,  if  the  soul  is  material, 
matter  is  moved  by  motives,  reasons,  and  arguments. 
But  the  matter  which  materialism  invests  with  tlie  faculty 
of  thinking  is  not  the  gross  and  inert  mass  wliich  it  is  at 
first  supposed  to  be ;  it  is  the  ether,  that  mysterious  agent 
which  we  know  only  by  its  manifestations,  but  which  we 
assume  to  be  the  basis  of  intellectual  phenomena  as  well  as 
of  extension,  impenetrability,  and  movement.  Besides,  it 
may  be  said,  in  answer  to  the  spiritualists,  that  if  the  theory 
of  "  matter  influenced  by  motives  "  is  objectionable  to  them, 
their  "simple  substance  influenced  by  an  extended  su1>- 
stance  "  (in  sensation  and  perception)  is  no  less  ol)jection- 
able  to  the  materialistic  thinker. 

11.  If  the  soul,  says  spiritualism,  is  composed  of  parts, 
atoms  (or,  as  we  should  say  nowadays,  of  living  cells  of 
gray  cortical  substance),  how  can  it  be  felt  as  a  unity? 
How  does  it  become  conscious  of  the  me  ?  ^  This  feeling, 
this  perception  of  the  unity  which  is  called  tlie  ego^  is  con- 
ceivable only  in  a  real  individual,  in  a  unity,  monad,  or 
atom,  and  not  in  a  sum  of  monads,  atoms,  or  individuals, 
not  in  the  whole  nervous  system.  For  a  sum  or  whole  is 
merely  an  idea,  a  mental  being;  its  parts  alone  have  real 
existence  (nominalism).  Hence  these  (the  monads,  atoms, 
or  individuals  making  up  the  nervous  system)  can  feel 
themselves,  each  for  itself  and  separately,  as  unities  or  I's ; 
but  the  nervous  system,  the  whole,  cannol,  for  the  whole  is 
not  an  indivicbial,  an  ol)jfctive  and  existing  icality.  This, 
as  Priestley  himself  confesses,^  is  the  strongest,  and.  in  fact, 

1  In  a  word  :  How  can  the  one  arise  from  the  many  V 

2  [I  cannot  find  anyUiinf;  in  the  Disf/uisllions  to  provi'  tliis  stalc- 
nient.  What  Priestley  does  say  is  this:  "This  argnment  has  hecn 
nnieh  liaekncyt'<l,  and  much  cnnfidcMl  in  hy  mctai>hysicians  ;  t>ut,  for 
jny  pari,  1  cannot  iMiccivc,  the  least  ftirce  in  it."     (p.  118.)  —  Th.J 


410  MODERN   PHILOSOPHY 

the  only  serious  argument  that  spiritualism  can  oppose.^ 
How  can  the  one  arise  from  the  many?  He  declares  that 
he  cannot  explain  the  difficult}',  but  that,  if  it  really  is  a 
difficulty,  it  exists  for  spiritualism  as  well.  Psychological 
consciousness  is  nothing  but  plurality  reduced  to  unity,  or 
unity  derived  from  plurality,  or,  in  a  word,  the  synthesis 
of  the  one  and  the  many,  i.  e.,  an  inexplicable  mystery. 
Spiritualism  is  as  unable  to  tell  how  a  multitude  of  ideas, 
feelings,  and  volitions  can  constitute  tlie  unit}^  of  self,  as 
materialism  is  powerless  to  explain  how  a  multitude  of 
atoms  can  form  a  unity.  Hence,  spiritualism  has  no  ad- 
vantage over  its  adversary  in  this  respect. 

12.  It  is  objected  that  the  soul  wars  against  the  body, 
that  it  is  possessed  of  a  self-moving  power,  while  the  body 
needs  a  foreign  mechanical  impulse,  that  the  body  alone  be- 
comes weary  and  never  the  soul ;  finally,  that,  if  the  human 
soul  is  material,  God  liimself  ceases  to  be  a  pure  spirit. 
Priestley  replies  that  there  are  also  conflicts  between  the 
different  tendencies  of  the  soul,  and  yet  that  spiritualism 
does  not  dream  of  referring  each  of  these  tendencies  to  a 
principle  or  a  chfferent  suljstance  ;  that  the  body  is  not  in- 
ert, as  was  believed  before  the  days  of  Leibniz,  and  that  no 
substance  is  without  force ;  that  thought  fags  and  exhausts 
the  brain,  which  is  refreshed  in  sleep ;  finally,  that  we  cannot 
extend  our  reasonings  concerning  finite  beings  to  the  infin- 
ite, but  that  the  "  materiality  "  of  God  is  more  consistent 
with  the  dogma  of  omnipresence  than  the  opposite  view. 

Priestley  appeals  to  the  Bible,  and  believes  that  his  sys- 
tem can  be  reconciled  with  Christianit}^  and  even  with 
Calvinism. 2     French  materialism,  however,  does  not  share 

^  Albert  Lange  shares  this  view.  In  his  History  of  Malerialmn,  he 
holds  that  the  above  argument  hits  the  weak  spot  in  materialism. 

2  There  is,  indeed,  a  connecting  link  between  Priestley's  system 
and  the  reformed  dogma  :  we  mean  their  common  opposition  to  inde- 
terminism.  Indeterministic  and  Pelagian  Catholicism  offers  material- 
ism no  such  support. 


PROGRESS  OF  MATERIALISM  411 

these  illusions.  In  tlie  Testament  de  Jean  Mcslicr,^  which 
Voltaire  made  public,  we  find  the  bold  utterances  of  To- 
land  repeated.  The  same  may  be  said  of  the  writings 
of  the  physician,  Julien  Offroy  de  la  Metteie  ^  (1709- 
1751),  who  was  one  of  the  first  outspoken  materialists  in 
France.  Curiously^  enough,  tliis  leader  of  the  opponents 
of  spiritualism  is  a  disciple,  not  of  Toland,  but  of  the  man 
whom  French  spiritualism  recognizes  as  its  head  :  Des- 
cartes. We  must  remember  that  Descartes  was  not  only 
the  author  of  the  Meditations  and  the  dualistic  hypothesis, 
but  that  he  wrote  the  Treatise  07i  the  Passions  of  the  Soid, 
and  founded  the  modern  mechanical  theor}-.  Descartes  not 
only  proved  the  existence  of  God  and  the  spirituality  of 
the  soul,^  but  also  showed  '^  how  all  the  limhs  can  he  moved 
hy  the  objects  of  the  senses  and  hy  the  spirits  without  the 
AID  OF  THE  SOUL;"^  that  it  resides  in  the  pineal  gland; 
that  memory  presupposes  cerebral  impressions ;  that  animals 
are  machines ;  that  the  intellectual  phenomena  which  we 
discover  in  them  can  and  must  be  mechanically  explained. 
The  advance  from  the  animal-machine  of  Descartes  to  the 
homme-viachine  is  slight;  and  La  ]Meltrie  makes  it.  If 
the  animal  can  feel,  perceive,  remember,  compare,  and 
judge,  without  the  aid  of  an  innnaterial  soul,  simply  by 
means  of  its  nervous  and  cerebral  organization,  there  is  no 
reason  why  we  should  concede  a  soul  to  man,  Avhose  sensi- 
bility, will,  and  understanding  are  merel}'  more    highly 

1  A  curt  of  Etrepigny  in  Champagne,  died  173.").  'J'cslami'iil  de 
J.  Meslier,  pul)lisli(.'d  in  3  vols.,  with  a  preface  and  a  biographical 
introduction,  by  K.  Charles,  Amsterdam,  18G5. 

2  Ilistolre  naturelle  de  Vthne,  The  Hague  (Paris),  1745;  VHomme- 
macli'ine,  Leyden,  171 S;  L'llomme-plnnle,  Paris,  1718.  "Works  of  I>a 
Mettrie,  London  (ik-rlin),  1751.     [Cf.  Lange,  lUstorij  of  Materid/isni.'] 

3  Tliese  "errors"  are,  in  La  Mettrie's  opinion,  notiiing  Imt  "a 
trick  to  make  the  theologians  swallow  the  poison  of  mechanism. 
The  anh'xd-jnarhine  is  Descartes's  grandest  discovery." 

*  Passions  de  I'dine,  I.,  Art.  10. 


412  MODERN   PHILOSOPHY 

developed  animal  functions.  Man  is  not  an  exception ;  he 
does  not  form  a  separate  and  privileged  caste  in  universal 
nature.  The  laws  of  nature  are  the  same  for  all.  There 
can  he  no  difference  in  this  respect  hetween  men,  hrutes, 
plants,  and  animals.  Man  is  a  machine,  hut  a  more  com- 
plicated machine  than  the  animal :  "  he  is  to  the  ape  or  the 
most  intelligent  animals,  what  Huyghens's  planetary  pen- 
dulum is  to  a  watch  made  by  Julien  Leroy." 

This  developed  animal  did  not  fall  from  the  clouds,  nor 
did  it  arise,  ready-made,  from  the  bowels  of  the  earth.  It 
is  not  the  work  of  a  supernatural  creator,  the  realization  of 
an  idea :  it  owes  its  origin  to  a  natural  evolution  which 
gradually  evolves  more  and  more  perfect  forms  from  the 
elementary  organisms.  Tlie  human  species  is  no  more  a 
separate  creation  than  the  other  animal  and  vegetable  spe- 
cies ;  its  present  form  has  been  evolved  from  lower  animal 
forms,  slowly  and  by  progressive  stages.  The  evolutionistic 
and  transformistic  conception,  familiar  to  ancient  philoso- 
phy,i  reappears,  in  various  forms,  but  wholly  conscious  of 
its  aims,  in  the  Pensees  sicr  rinterprStation  de  la  nature  of 
Denis  Diderot,^  in  the  work,  De  la  nature,  of  Robinet,^ 
in  the  Palingenesie  philosophiqiie  of  Charles  de  Bonnet,* 

1  We  found  it  in  Anaximander,  Empedocles,  xVnaxagoras,  and 
Democritus. 

2  Born  at  Paris,  1713;  died  1784.  The  founder  of  the  Encydo- 
pedie  (Dictionnaire  rahonne  des  arts,  des  sciences  el  des  metiers.  Par 
nne  socie'te'  de  gens  de  letlres,  7nis  en  ordre  el  public  par  M.  Diderot,  Paris, 
1751-1703).  His  most  important  philosophical  writings  are:  Pensees 
sur  V  interpretation  de  la  nature,  Paris,  1754  ;  Reoe  de  D'Alemberl ;  Let  Ire 
sur  les  aveurjles  ;  iSlements  de  physiologic.  M.  Assezat  has  edited  the 
Complete  Works  of  Diderot  from  the  original  editions.  He  includes 
what  has  been  published  at  different  periods,  and  the  unpublished 
manuscripts  preserved  in  the  Hermitage  library  (Paris,  1875).  [On 
Diderot  see  the  works  of  K.  Rosenkranz  (1866)  and  John  Morley 
(1878,  1886).] 

3  1723-  1789.     De  la  nature,  4  vols.  8vo,  Amsterdam,  1763-68. 

*  A  Genevan,  1720-1793.  La  palingenesie  philosophique  ou  idees  sui 
Vetat  passe  et  sur  I'e'tat  futur  des  etres  vivants,  Geneva,  1769. 


PROGRESS  OF  MATERL\LISM  413 

precursors  of  Lamarck  and  Darwin.  According  to  Diderot, 
the  entire  universe  is  an  endless  fermentation,  a  ceaseless 
interchange  of  substances,  a  perpetual  circulation  of  life. 
Nothing  lasts,  everything  changes,  —  species  as  luell  as 
individuals.  Animals  have  not  always  been  what  they  are 
now.  In  the  animal  and  vegetable  kingdoms,  individuals 
arise,  grow,  decline,  and  die.  Can  we  not  say  the  same 
for  entire  species  ?  Now,  there  is  an  afifinity,  and  pei'haps 
identity,  between  kingdoms,  just  as  between  species.  Thus, 
who  can  ever  exactly  determine  the  boundaries  between 
plants  and  animals?  Plants  and  animals  are  defined  in 
the  same  way.  We  speak  of  three  kingdoms,  but  why 
should  not  one  emanate  from  the  other,  and  why  should 
not  the  animal  and  vegetable  kingdoms  emanate  from  uni- 
versal heterogeneous  matter  ?  The  evolution  is  wholly  me- 
chanical. Nature,  with  its  five  or  six  essential  properties, 
such  as  potential  and  active  force,  length,  breadth,  depth, 
impenetrability,  and  sensihility,  tvhich  exists  potcatially  in 
the  inert  molecule,  and  matter,  sufiices  to  explain  tlie  world. 
We  should  not  search  for  designs  (intentions')  where  there 
are  only  accidental  facts.  The  spiritualists  say :  Look  at 
man,  that  living  proof  of  final  causes  !  What  do  they  mean  ? 
The  real  man  or  the  ideal  man  ?  Surely  not  the  real  man, 
for  there  is  not  a  perfectly  constituted,  perfectly  sound  man 
on  the  entire  surface  of  the  earth.  The  human  species 
consists  of  an  aggregation  of  more  or  less  deformed  and 
unhealthy  individuals.  Now,  why  should  that  make  us 
sound  the  praises  of  the  alleged  creator?  Praises,  indeed! 
We  have  nothing  but  apologies  to  offer  for  him.  And 
there  is  not  a  single  animal,  a  single  plant,  a  single  mineral, 
of  which  we  cannot  say  what  has  just  l)een  said  of  man. 
Of  what  use  are  the  phalanges  in  the  cloven  foot  of  the 
hog?  Of  what  use  are  the  mamma'  in  males?  'I'lie  act- 
ual world  is  as  a  day-fly  to  the  millions  of  wA  (>r  possil)le 
worlds  of  the  past  and  future;  it  is  what  the  insect  of 


414  MODERN   PHILOSOPHY 

Hypaiiis  is  to  man,  wlio  sees  it  live  and  die  in  the  passing 
of  a  day.  The  day  of  a  woild  lasts  a  little  longer,  that 
is  all. 

These  conceptions  of  the  world  and  man  are  shared  by 
Helv^tkjs,^  who,  like  Thomas  Hobbes  and  Mandeville,^ 
considers  egoism  and  self-interest  as  the  true  and  sole  mo- 
tive of  our  acts;  by  the  mathematician  D'Alembert,^ 
whose  pliilosophy  reveals  a  delicate  tinge  of  scepticism, 
which  distinguishes  it  fa^■orably  from  its  environment,  and 
brings  it  nearer  to  criticism;  by  the  political  economists 
TuRGOT  "*  and  Condorcet,-^  who  construct  a.  positive  phi- 
losophy of  history,  based  on  the  necessity  of  human  actions 
and  the  laAV  of  continued  progress;  by  the  Baron  d'HoL- 
BACH,6  whose  Si/steme  de  la  nature,  published  at  London, 
1770,  under  the  pseudonym  of  Mirabaud,  is  a  comijlete  the- 
ory of  ontological  and  psychological  materialism.  Matter 
and  motion :  these  two  words  sum  up  everything.  INIatter 
and  motion  are  eternal.  The  universe  is  neither  governed 
l)y  a  God  nor  by  chance,  but  by  immutable  and  necessary 
laws.  These  laws  do  not  depend  on  a  personal  power  capa- 
ble of  modifying  them  ;  nor  do  they  form  a  brutal  necessity, 
a  Fate  hovering  above  things,  a  yoke  imposed  upon  them 

1  Claude  Adrien,  1715-1771.  De  Ve.^pnt,  Paris,  1758  (anonymous) ; 
De  Vhonime,  de  ses  facidles  et  de  son  education,  London  (Amsterdam), 
1772  (anonymous)  ;  Les  procjres  de  la  raison  dans  la  recherche  de  la 
vcritd,  London,  1775.  Complete  works,  Amsterdam,  1776  ;  Zwei- 
briicken,  1784;  Paris,  1794;  1796  (this  last  edition  in  10  vols.,  12°). 

2  Bernard  de  iVfandeville,  1670-1738.  The  Fable  of  the  Bees,  or 
Private  Vices  made  Public  Benefits,  London,  1714,  1719. 

3  1717-1783.  Author  of  the  masterly  Discours  preliminaire  of  the 
Encyclopedia,  which  he  helped  to  found.  iMclanr/es  de  Ulterature,  d'kis- 
toire  et  de  philosophic,  5  vols.,  Paris,  1752. 

*  Discours  siir  les  progres  de  Vesprit  hnmain.  etc.  [Complete  works 
by  Dupont  de  Xemours,  4  vols.,  Paris,  1808-1811.] 

^  Esquisse  d'un  tableau  historique  des progres  de  Vesprit  humain  (post- 
humous work).  1794. 

«  1723-1789. 


PROGRESS  OF  MATERIALISM  415 

from  without :  they  are  merely  the  iiroijcrties  of  things,  the 
expression  of  their  innermost  nature.  The  universe  is 
neither  an  al)Solute  monarchy  ()  /((  Duns  Scotus,  nor  a  con- 
stitutional monarchy  it  la  Leibniz,  but  a  republic.  Theism 
is  the  sworn  enemy  of  science.  Pantheism  is  merely  a 
shamefaced  theism,  or  atheism  in  disguise.  The  mechani- 
cal theor}^  sufficiently  explains  all  things.  There  is  no 
finality  in  nature.  Eyes  were  not  made/o?-  seeing,  nor  feet 
for  walking,  but  seeing  and  walking  are  the  effects  of  a 
certain  arrangement  of  atoms,  which,  if  different,  would 
produce  different  phenomena.  There  is  no  soul  apart  from 
nervous  substance.  Thought  is  a  function  of  the  brain. 
iNIatter  alone  is  immortal ;  individuals  are  not.  The  free- 
will of  the  indeterminists  is  a  denial  of  the  universal  order. 
There  are  not  two  separate  realms  and  two  series  of  laws, 
—  physical  laws  and  moral  laws,  —  but  one  undivided  and 
indivisible  universe,  subject,  in  all  its  parts  and  at  all  peri- 
ods, to  the  same  necessity. 

Finally,  on  the  eve  of  the  Revolution,  the  phj'sician  Ca- 
BANIS  (1757-1808),  in  his  Considerations  generates  su7'  I'etude 
de  Vhomme  et  sur  Ics  rapports  de  son  organisation  piliysiqnc 
avec  ses  facultes  intellectuellcs  et  morales,^  formulated  the 
pi-inciples  of  psychological  materialism  with  such  frankness 
and  vigor  as  have  never  been  excelled.  Body  and  mind  are 
not  only  most  intimately  connected ;  they  are  one  and  the 
same  thing.  The  soul  is  body  endoAved  with  feeling.  The 
body  or  matter  tliiuks,  feels,  and  wills.  Pliysiology  iuid 
psyc^hology  are  one  and  the  s;im(^  science.  Man  is  simply  a 
bundle  of  nerves.  Thought  is  IIk;  function  of  the  brain,  as 
digestion  is  the  function  of  the  stomach,  and  (he  secretion 
of  bile  tlie  function  of  the  liver.  'Ihe  imjjrcssions  reaching 
the  brain  cause  it  to  act,  just  as  tlie  food  introduced  into 
the  stomach  sets  that  organ  in  motion.     It  is  the  business 

1  III  Hm-  Me'moires  (le  riiistllul,  years  I\'.  and  \1.  (ITiiOainl  1798): 
rti-riiit^-.l,  I'aiis,  180 J. 


416  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

of  the  brain  to  produce  an  image  of  each  particular  impres- 
sion, to  arrange  these  images,  and  to  compare  them  with 
each  other  for  the  sake  of  forming  judgments  and  ideas,  as 
it  is  the  function  of  the  stomach  to  react  upon  food  in  order 
to  dio-est  it.  Intellectual  and  moral  phenomena  are,  like  all 
others,  necessary  consequences  of  the  properties  of  matter 
and  the  laws  which  govern  beings.^ 

On  this  latter  point,  philosophers,  be  they  conservative  or 
radical,  dogmatic  or  sceptical,  jurists  and  litterateurs,  natu- 
ralists and  pliysicians,  agree.  By  subjecting  the  Deity  him- 
self to  laws,  Montesquieu  simply  denies  God  as  an  absolute 
personal  power.  His  God  is  the  nature  of  things,  in  which 
are  orounded  the  necessary  relations  which  we  call  laws.^ 
Voltaire  is  a  deist,  but  he  assumes,  with  Locke,  that  mat- 
ter can  think. 3  J.J.  Rousseau  is  a  spiritualist  in  his  way, 
but  7iature,  ivhich  ive  have  ahandoned  and  to  which  we  must 
return,  is  his  God  also.*  The  pioneers  of  German  litera- 
ture, Lessing,  Herder,  and  Goethe,  combine  with  the  highest 
idealism  the  same  naturalistic  and  monistic,  if  not  material- 
istic, tendency.  What  united  these  different  thinkers  was 
their  outspoken  or  secret  opposition  to  Cartesian  dualism, 
which  set  up  a  separate  order  of  things,  called  free  spirit- 
ual substances,  not  subject  to  the  laws  of  nature,  a  kind  of 
caste  or  privileged  aristocracy.      Equality  before  the  law 

1  Closely  related  to  the  system  of  Cabanis  is  the  intellectual  or 
cerebral  physiology  (known  by  the  name  oi  phrenology)  of  Gall,  Spurz- 
heim  and  Broussais. 

2  De  r esprit  des  lots.  I.,  ch.  I. :  Les  loix,  dans  la  signification  la  plus 
etendue,  sont  les  rapports  necessaires  qui  derirent  de  la  nature  des  choses  ; 
et,  dans  ce  sens,  tons  les  etres  ont  leurs  lois  :  la  divinite  a  ses  his,  etc. 

8  See  page  399,  note  1. 

*  1712-1778.  Discours  siir  Forigine  et  les  fondements  de  Vine'galite 
parmi  les  Jwmmes,  Paris,  1753  ;  Le  contrat  social,  1762  ;  ^mile  ou  de 
V education,  11  ^>2.  [ffiwrre.?,  Paris,  1764 ;  1818-20;  1868.  L.  Moreau, 
J.  J.  Rousseau  et  le  siecle  phUosophique,  Paris,  1870;  John  Morley, 
Rousseau,  2  vols.,  London,  1873.— Tr.] 


DAVID  HUME  417 

of  nature,  and  (in  view  of  the  failure  of  sense-perception 
and  speculation  to  establish  the  freedom  of  indifference) 
determinism  for  all^  without  excepting  even  the  Supreme 
Being :  these  were  the  watchwords  of  the  philosophers  un- 
til they  became  the  watchwords  of  the  Revolution  in  1789. 

§    61.      David  Hume  ^ 

"There  are  no  bodies,"  the  idealists  dogmaticallj^  de- 
clared; "there  is  no  spiritual  substance,"  was  the  equally 
dogmatic  assertion  of  the  materialists.  The  Scotchman, 
David  Hume  (1711-1776),  an  acute  thinker  and  classi- 

1  [Treatise  on  Human  Nature,  3  vols.,  London,  1739-174:0;  ed.  by 
Selby-Bigge,  Clarendon  Press,  1888.  Hnme  afterwards  worked  over 
the  three  books  of  the  Treatise,  and  published  them  under  the  follow- 
ing titles:  An  Enquiry  concerning  Human  Understanding,  1748;  A 
Dissertation  on  the  Passions;  and  An  Enquiry  concerning  the  Princinles 
of  Morals,  1751.  The  first  and  last  of  these  works,  reprinted  from 
the  posthumous  edition  of  1777,  have  been  edited,  with  introduction, 
etc.,"  by  J.  A.  Selby-Bigge,  Oxford,  1894.  Essays,  Moral,  Political, 
and  Literary,  1741.  The  Natural  History  of  Religion,  1755.  All  of  the 
above-mentioned  works,  except  the  Treatise,  were  published  under  the 
title.  Essays  and  Treatises  on  Several  Subjects,  London,  1770.  The 
best  edition  of  this  collection  (with  introduction  and  notes),  by  T.  H. 
Green  and  T.  H.  Grose,  2  vols.,  London,  1875,  new  ed.,  1889.  The 
Dialogues  concerning  Natural  Religion  appeared  after  Hume's  death. 
These,  together  with  the  Treatise,  are  published,  witli  introduction  and 
notes,  by  T.  H.  Green  and  T.  H.  Grose.  2  vols.,  London,  1874,  new 
ed.,  1889.  The  Autobiography  was  published  by  Adam  Smith,  London, 
1777.  The  essays  on  Suicide  and  the  Ininwrtalify  tf  the  Soul  appeared 
1783.  Selections  from  the  Treatise  (H.  L),  by  IL  A.  Aiken,  in  Series 
of  Modern  Philosophers,  New  York,  1893;  from  Hume's  ethical  writ- 
ings, by  J.  H.  Hyslop,  in  tlie  Ethical  Series,  Boston,  1893.  Works  on 
Hume:  F.  Jodl,  Leben  und  Philostq/hie  Darid  fhnne's,  Halle,  1872;  K. 
PHeiderer,  Empirismus  und  Skepsis  in  D.  II.'s  Phil.,  Berlin,  1871; 
Mciiiong,  Hume-Siudieu,  2  vols.,  Vienna,  1877, 18S2;  G.  v.  Gizycki,  Die 
Ethik  D.  II.'s,  Hreshiu,  1878;  T.  Huxley,  Hume,  London,  1879  ;  \\  . 
Knight,  Hume  (Philosophical  Cla.i.tics),  London,  1880;  Introduction  to 
od.  of  Hume's  works  by  T.  H.  Green.  —  Tr  ] 

•27 


418  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

cal  historian  of  England,^  opposes  to  eacli  of  these  schools 
the  doubts  of  Protagoras  and  Locke  :  Can  the  human  mind 
solve  the  ontological  problem  ?  Is  metaphysics,  considered 
as  the  science  of  the  immanent  essence  and  primary  causes 
of  things,  possible?  In  his  Essays^  which  are  inimitable 
masterpieces  of  acumen  and  clearness,  modern  philosophy 
enters  upon  the  path  marked  out  by  English  empiricism. 
The  human  mind  begins  to  reflect  upon  its  resources  with 
a  view  to  ascertaining  the  pre-conditions  of  knowledge,  the 
origin  of  metaphysical  ideas,  and  the  limits  of  its  capacity. 
Philosophy  becomes  decidedly  critical  and  positivistic. 

For  the  old  metaphysics,  i.  e.,  the  alleged  science  of  the 
essence  of  things,  "  that  abstruse  philosophy  and  metaphysi- 
cal jargon^  which,  being  mixed  up  with  popular  superstition, 
renders  it  in  a  manner  impenetrable  to  careless  reasoners,  and 
gives  it  the  air  of  science  and  loisdom,'''^  we  must,  according 
to  Hume,  substitute  criticism.  In  other  words,  we  must 
inquire  seriously  into  the  nature  of  human  understanding, 
and  show,  from  an  exact  analysis  of  its  powers  and  capa- 
city, that  it  is  by  no  means  fitted  for  such  remote  and 
abstruse  subjects  as  traditional  metaphysics  busies  itself 
with.  We  must  submit  to  this  fatigue,  in  order  to  live  at 
ease  ever  after;  a7id  must  cultivate  true  metapihysics  with 
some  care,  in  order  to  destroy  the  false  and  adulterate. 

Though  criticism  is  more  modest  in  its  pretensions  than 
ontology,  it  is  no  inconsiderable  part  of  science  to  know 

1  History  of  England  from  the  Invasion  of  Julius  Ccesar,  etc.,  6  vols., 
London,  1754-1763.  Hume's  historical  work  made  a  greater  impres- 
sion on  his  age  than  his  philosophical  works.  He  himself  was  espe- 
cially proud  of  his  achievements  as  a  historian  (see  Letters  of  David 
Hume  to  WiUiam  Sfrahan.  Now  first  edited  by  G.  Birkbeck  Hill, 
Oxford,  1888).  Oiu-  age,  however,  has  reversed  this  opinion.  Hume, 
the  spiritual  father  of  Kant,  now  takes  precedence  over  Hume,  the 
rival  of  Robertson  and  Gibbon. 

2  An  Enquiry  concerning  Human  UnderMinding,  sect.  I.  [Green's 
edition  of  Hume]. 


DAVID  HUME  4l9 

the  different  operations  of  the  mind,  to  separate  them  from 
each  other,  to  chiss  them  under  theii'  proper  Iicads,  and  to 
correct  all  that  seeming  disorder  in  which  they  lie  involved, 
when  made  the  object  of  reflection  and  inquiry.  This 
science  has  the  immense  advantage  over  metaphysics*  of 
being*  certain.  Nor  can  there  remain  any  suspicion  that 
this  science  is  luicertain  and  chimerical;  unless  we  slioidd 
entertain  such  a  scepticisiii  as  is  entirely  suhversioe  of  all 
speculation^  and  even  action}  To  throw  up  all  at  once  all 
pretensions  of  this  kind  may  justly  he  deemed  more  rash,  pre- 
cipitate, and  dogmatical  than  even  the  boldest  and  most  ajflr- 
riiative  philosophy?  We  esteem  it  worthy  of  the  labor  of 
a  philosopher  to  give  us  a  true  system  of  the  planets,  and 
adjust  the  position  and  order  of  those  remote  botlies.  IIow 
nuich  more  highly  should  we  value  tliose  who,  with  so 
much  success,  delineate  the  parts  of  the  mind,  in  which  we 
are  so  intimately  concerned !  We  have  succeeded  in  deter- 
mining tlie  laws  by  wliich  the  revolutions  of  tlie  planets 
are  governed.  And  there  is  no  reason  to  despair  of  equal 
success  in  our  inquiries  concerning  the  mental  powers  and 
economy.  All  we  have  to  do  is  to  enter  upon  the  enter- 
prise with  thorough  care  and  attention.^ 

Hume  loves  to  call  himself  a  sceptic,  and  lie  is  a  sceptic 
as  regards  dogmatic  metaphysics.  But  from  the  above 
explicit  statements  and  man}-  otlier  like  assertions,  it 
would  seem  that  his  philosophy  is  notliing  but  criticism. 
It  is  not  his  purpose  to  renounce  })hiloso}»hy  or  even  meta- 
physics, but  to  give  it  a  different  direction  and  a  (htferent 
object,  to  turn  it  from  fruitless  speculation,  antl  to  estab- 
lish it  on  the  firm  and  certain  foundation  of  experience* 
Had  Hume  been  an  aljsolute  sceptic  lie  could  never  have 
produced  an  Iminanucl  Kant.     Now,  whatever  difference 

*  An  Enquirij  coiicerniiKj  Iluinan  Uitderstdndinq,  srct.   I.,  jt.  10. 
2  Id.,  p.  IL'.  8  Id. 

*  Id.,  sect.  XII.,  i.iuL  III.,  p.  13;}. 


420  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

there  may  be  between  the  results  of  these  two  thinkers, 
one  thing  is  certain  :  The  spirit  of  their  theoretical  philos- 
ophy, the  fundamental  conception  of  their  investigations, 
and  the  goal  at  which  they  aim,  are  perfectly  identical. 
Theirs  is  the  critical  spirit,  and  positive  knowledge  the 
goal  at  which  they  aim.  To  claim  for  Kant  the  sole  honor 
of  having  founded  criticism  is  an  error  which  a  closer  study 
of  British  philosophy  tends  to  refute. 

The  following  is  the  substance  of  Hume's  inquiries  con- 
cerning human  understanding :  — 

All  our  perceptions  may  be  divided  into  two  classes : 
ideas  or  thoughts  and  impressions.  Ideas  are  the  less  lively 
perceptions,  of  which  we  are  conscious  when  we  reflect  on 
our  sensations.  By  the  term  "  impression  "  Hume  means 
all  our  more  lively  perceptions,  when  we  hear,  or  see,  or 
feel,  or  love,  or  hate,  or  desire,  or  will.-'  Nothing,  at  hrst 
view,  he  says,  seems  more  unbounded  than  thought ;  but 
a  nearer  examination  shows  that  it  is  really  confined  within 
veiy  narrow  limits,  and  that  it  amounts  to  no  more  than 
the  faculty  of  compounding,  transposing,  augmenting,  or 
diminishing  the  materials  afforded  us  by  the  senses  and 
experience.  All  the  materials  0/  our  thinking  are  derived 
either  from  our  outward  or  inward  sentiment;  the  mixture 
and  composition  of  these  belongs  alone  to  the  mind  and  will? 
Or,  in  other  terms,  all  our  ideas  or  more  feehle  perceptions 
are  copies  of  our  impressions  or  more  lively  ones.  Even  the 
idea  of  God  arises  from  reflecting  on  the  operations  of  our 
own  mind,  and  augmenting,  without  limit,  those  qualities 
of  oroodness  and  wisdom  which  we  observe  in  ourselves. 

o 

1  An  Enquiry  concerning  Human  Understanding,  sect.  TI.,  p.  14. 

2  Id.,  p.  14.  We  have  here,  word  for  word,  the  teaching  of  Kant, 
who,  however,  adds  that  this  mixtm-e  and  composition  depends  on 
a  priori  forms,  inherent  in  the  mind.  Hmne  also  assumes  that  it 
depends  on  principles;  but,  absolute  sensationalist  that  he  is,  derives 
the  principles  themselves  from  sensation,  experience,  and  habit. 


DAVID   HUME  421 

We  may  prosecute  this  inquiry  to  what  length  we  please ; 
we  shall  always  find  that  every  idea  which  we  examine  is 
copied  from  a  similar  impression.  A  blind  man  can  form 
no  notion  of  colors ;  a  deaf  man  of  sounds.^  Moreover,  all 
ideas,  compared  to  sensations,  are  naturally  faint  and 
obscure.^ 

After  having  proved  that  all  our  ideas  are  derived  from 
sensation,  Hume  shows  that  they  succeed  each  other  in  a 
certain  order,  and  that  there  is  a  certain  connection  be- 
tween them.  This  order  and  this  connection  presuppose 
certain  principles  of  connection,  according  to  which  our 
thoughts  succeed  each  other.  They  are:  Resemblance,  con- 
tiijiiity  in  time  or  ijlacc,  and  causality.  The  question  here 
presents  itself :  Are  these  principles,  especially  causality, 
the  most  important  of  all  notions,  a  priori^  innate,  anterior 
to  all  impressions,  as  idealism  claims,  or  are  they  ideas 
in  the  sense  which  sensationalism  attaches  to  the  term, 
i.  e.,  faint  sensations,  copies  of  similar  impressions  ?  Kant 
answers  the  first  question  in  the  affirmative ;  Hume,  the 
latter.  He  devotes  all  the  efforts  of  his  criticism  to  the 
notion  of  causality,  force,  power,  or  necessary  connection, 
and  the  explanation  of  its  origin.  This  idea,  like  all 
others,  arises  from  sensation.  Experience  teaclies  us  that 
one  billiard-ball  communicates  motion  to  another  ujjou 
impulse,  and  that  the  latter  moves  in  a  certain  direction. 
We  have  no  a  priori  knowledge  either  of  the  movement  or 
of  the  direction  of  the  movement.  Between  what  we  call 
the  cause  and  what  we  call  the  effect  there  is  no  necessary 
connection  that  could  ever  be  discovered  a  priori.  The 
effect  is  totally  different  from  the  cause,  and  consequt'ntly 
can  never  be  discovered  in  it.  The  mind  can  never  pos- 
sibly find  the  effect  in  the  supposed  cause,  by  the  most 
accurate  scrutiny  and  examination ;  and  whi-rcver  exj)eri- 

^   An  KTifjuirij  concerniu<j  Ilujii'tn  Understititillng,  s^'vi.  II..  \k  I.ji 
2  Id.,  p.  10. 


422  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

ence  shows  us  that  a  particular  effect  succeeds  a  particular 
cause,  there  are  always  many  other  effects  which,  to  reason, 
must  seem  fully  as  consistent  and  natural.^  In  vain,  there- 
fore, should  we  pretend  to  determine  any  single  event,  or 
infer  any  cause  or  effect,  without  the  assistance  of  obser- 
vation and  experience.  In  a  word,  the  idea  of  cause  is  no 
exception  to  the  rule  according  to  which  all  our  ideas  arise 
from  sensation. 

It  remains  to  be  seen  how  it  is  derived,  what  is  the 
impression  from  wliich  it  comes? 

Let  us  first  observe  —  and  here  the  sensationalistic  ex- 
planation strikes  a  difficulty  which  Hume  fully  appreciated 

let  us  observe  that  what  we  call  power,  force,  energy,  or 

necessary  connection  can  never  be  perceived.  One  object 
follows  another  in  an  uninterrupted  succession ;  that  is  all 
we  see ;  but  the  power  or  force  which  actuates  the  whole 
machine  is  entirely  concealed  from  us.  We  know  that,  in 
fact,  heat  is  a  constant  attendant  of  flame  ;  but  what  is  the 
connection  between  them  we  cannot  conjecture  or  even 
imagine.  Since  external  objects  give  us  no  such  idea,  let 
us  see  whether  this  idea  be  derived  from  reflection  on  the 
operations  of  our  own  minds.  It  may  be  said  that  we  are 
every  moment  conscious  of  internal  power ;  while  we  feel 
that,  by  the  simple  command  of  our  will,  we  can  move  the 
oro-ans  of  our  body,  or  direct  the  faculties  of  our  mind. 
But  the  influence  of  volition  over  the  organs  of  the  body  is 
a  fact  which,  like  all  other  natural  events,  can  be  known 
only  by  experience.  The  motion  of  our  body  follows  upon 
the  command  of  our  will.  Of  this  we  are  every  moment 
conscious.  But  the  means  by  which  this  is  effected;  of 
this  we  are  so  far  from  being  conscious  that  it  must  for- 
ever escape  our  most  diligent  inquiry .^  A  man  suddenly 
struck  with  a  palsy  in  the  leg  or  arm,  or  who  had  newly 

1  An  Enquiry  concerning  Human  Understanding,  sect.  IV.,  p.  27. 

2  Id.,  sect.  YLI.,  pp.  51  f. 


DAVID   HUME  423 

lost  those  members,  frequently  endeavors,  at  first,  to  move 
them,  and  employ  them  m  their  usual  offices.  Here  he  is 
as  much  conscious  of  power  to  command  such  limbs  as  a 
man  in  perfect  health.  But  consciousness  never  deceives. 
Consequently,  neither  in  the  one  case  nor  in  the  other,  are 
we  ever  conscious  of  any  power.  We  learn  the  influence 
of  our  will  from  experience  alone.  And  experience  onl}^ 
teaches  us  how  one  event  constantly  follows  another,  with- 
out instructing  us  in  the  secret  connection  whicli  binds 
them  together  and  renders  them  inseparable. 

The  idea  Avhich  we  are  examining  is  not  derived  from 
any  consciousness  within  ourselves.  Nor  do  we  get  it 
through  the  senses.  Then  how  does  it  originate  ?  As  we 
can  have  no  idea  of  an3^hing  which  never  appeared  to  our 
outward  sense  or  inward  sentiment,  the  necessary  conclu- 
sion seems  to  be  that  we  have  no  idea  of  power  or  connec- 
tion at  all,  and  that  these  words  are  absolutely  without 
meaning,  when  employed  either  in  philoso^jhical  reason- 
ings or  common  life. 

l>ut  there  still  remains  one  method  of  avoiding  this  con- 
clusion ;  it  is  to  explain  the  idea  of  cause  by  custom  or  liabit. 
We  are  accustomed  to  seeing  certain  events  in  constant 
conjunction.  When  any  natural  object  or  event  is  presented, 
it  is  impossible  for  us,  by  any  sagacity  or  pcnetiation,  to 
discover  or  even  conjectui-e,  without  experience,  what  event 
will  result  from  it,  or  to  carry  our  foresight  Ijcyond  that 
object  which  is  immediately  present  to  tlie  memory  and 
senses.  But  wlien  one  particular  s])ecies  of  event  lias  al- 
ways, in  all  instances,  been  conjoined  with  another,  we 
make  no  longer  any  scruple  of  foretelling  one  upon  llie 
appearance  of  the  otlier.'  We  o])serve,  for  example,  tluit 
there  is  a  constant  connection  between  h(!at  and  flame,  be- 
tween solidity  and  weight,  and  we  are  accustomed  to  infer 
the  existence  of  onf  frriin  tlx;  existence  o'i  tlic  other.      We 

'   An  J'Jriqniri/    rrnicf  iniiii/  //iminu  b'nt/rrstnutlini/,  si-ci.  \'II.,  p.  (t2- 


424  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

then  call  the  one  object,  cause,  the  other,  effect.  We  sup- 
pose that  there  is  some  connection  between  them,  some 
power  in  the  one  by  which  it  infallibly  produces  the  other, 
and  operates  with  the  greatest  certainty  and  strongest 
necessit^^. 

Hence  the  idea  of  cause  does  not  arise  from  any  single 
impression,  from  the  perception  of  a  particular  object ;  it 
springs  from  our  habit  of  seeing  several  impressions  and 
several  objects  follow  each  other  in  regular  order.  This 
connection,  therefore,  which  we  feel  in  the  mind,  this  cus- 
tomary transition  of  the  imagination  from  one  object  to  its 
usual  attendant,  is  the  sentiment  or  impression  from  which 
we  form  the  idea  of  power  or  necessary  connection. 

To  recapitulate :  Every  idea  is  copied  from  some  preced- 
ing impression  or  sentiment ;  and  where  we  cannot  find 
any  impression,  we  may  be  certain  that  there  is  no  idea. 
In  all  single  instances  of  the  operation  of  bodies  or  minds, 
there  is  nothing  that  produces  any  impression,  nor  conse- 
quently can  suggest,  any  idea  of  power  or  necessary  con- 
nection. But  when  many  uniform  instances  appear,  and 
the  same  object  is  always  followed  by  the  same  event,  we 
then  begin  to  entertain  the  notion  of  cause  and  connection. 
We  then  feel  a  new  sentiment  or  impression,  to  wit,  a  cus- 
tomary connection  in  the  thought  or  imagination  between 
one  object  and  its  usual  attendant ;  and  this  sentiment  is 
the  original  of  that  idea  which  we  seek  for. 

Hume,  whose  criticism  aims  to  overthrow  the  principle  of 
causality  on  the  ground  that  it  is  neitlier  an  a  jjriori  pos- 
session, nor  derived  from  any  particular  experience,  is  nev- 
ertheless a  thorough-going  determinist  in  morals  and  in 
history.  Indeed,  he  is,  with  Hobbes  and  Spinoza,  one  of 
the  founders  of  positive  historical  science,  which  is  based  on 
the  principle  of  necessary  human  action.  "  It  is  universally 
acknowledged,"  he  says,^  "that  there  is  a  great  uniformity 

1  An  Enquiry  concerning  Human  Understanding,  sect.  VIII.,  p.  68. 


DAVID   HUME  425 

among  the  actions  of  men,  in  all  nations  and  ages,  and  that 
human  nature  remains  still  the  same,  in  its  principles  and 
operations.  The  same  motives  always  produce  the  same 
actions;  the  same  events  follow  from  the  same  causes. 
Ambition,  avarice,  self-love,  vanity,  friendship,  generosity, 
public  spirit ;  these  passions,  mixed  in  various  degrees,  and 
distributed  through  society,  have  been,  from  the  beginning 
of  the  world,  and  still  are,  the  source  of  all  the  actions  and 
enterprises  which  have  ever  been  observed  among  mankind. 
Would  you  know  the  sentiments,  inclinations,  and  course 
of  life  of  the  Greeks  and  Romans  ?  Study  well  the  temper 
and  actions  of  the  French  and  English ;  you  cannot  be  much 
mistaken  in  transferring  to  the  former  most  of  the  obser- 
vations which  you  have  made  with  regard  to  the  latter. 
Mankind  are  so  much  the  same,  in  all  times  and  places, 
that  liistory  informs  us  of  nothing  new  or  strange  in  this 
particular.  Its  eliief  use  is  only  to  discover  the  constant  and 
universal  principles  of  human  yidturer 

"  Were  there  no  uniformity  in  human  actions,  and  were 
every  experiment  which  we  could  form  of  this  kind  irregu- 
lar and  anomalous,  it  were  impossible  to  collect  any  general 
observations  concerning  mankind.  .  .  .  The  vulgar,  who 
take  things  according  to  their  first  appearance,  attribute 
the  uncertainty  of  events  to  such  an  uncertainty  in  the 
causes  as  makes  the  latter  often  fail  of  their  usual  opera- 
tion, though  they  meet  with  no  impediment  in  theh-  o])era- 
tion.  But  philosophers,  observing  that  almost  in  every  part 
of  nature,  there  is  contained  a  vast  variety  of  springs  and 
principles,  which  arc  hid  l)y  tlieir  minuteness  or  remoteness, 
find  that  it  is  at  least  possible  tlie  contrariety  of  events 
may  not  proceed  from  any  eontingency  in  the  cause,  but 
from  the  secret  operation  of  contrary  causes.  This  possibility 
is  converted  into  certaintij  by  farther  observation,  when  they 
remark  that,  upon  an  exact  scrutiny,  a  contrariety  of  effects 
always  betrays  a  contrariety  of  causes,  and  proceeds  from 


426  MODERN  PHILOSOniY 

their  mutual  opposition.  A  peasant  can  give  no  better 
reason  for  the  stopping  of  any  clock  or  watch  than  to  say 
that  it  does  not  commonl}^  go  right,  but  an  artist  easily 
perceives  that  the  same  force  in  the  spring  or  jjendulum 
has  always  the  same  influence  on  the  wheels,  but  fails  of  its 
usual  effect,  perhaps  by  reason  of  a  grain  of  dust,  which 
puts  a  stop  to  the  whole  movement.  From  the  observation 
of  several  parallel  instances,  philosoj^hers  form  a  maxim 
that  the  connection  between  all  causen  and  effects  is  equally/ 
necessary^  and  that  its  seeming  uncertainty  in  some  instances 
proceeds  from  the  secret  opposition  of  contrary  causes.^'  The 
human  will  is  governed  by  laws  which  are  no  less  steady 
than  those  wliich  govern  the  winds,  rain,  and  clouds  (Spi- 
noza) ;  the  conjunction  between  motives  and  voluntary 
actions  is  as  regular  and  uniform  as  that  between  the  cause 
and  effect  in  any  part  of  nature.^ 

This  truth  has  been  universally  acknowledged  among 
mankind ;  it  is  the  source  of  all  the  inferences  which  we 
form  concerning  human  actions,  the  basis  of  all  our  infer- 
ences concerning  the  future.  Physical  necessity  and  moral 
necessity  are  two  different  names^  but  their  nature  is  the 
same.  Natural  evidence  and  moral  evidence  are  derived 
from  the  same  principle.  In  spite  of  the  reluctance  which 
men  have  to  acknowledge  the  doctrine  of  necessity  in 
words,  they  all  tacitly  profess  it.  "  Necessity,  according 
to  the  sense  in  which  it  is  here  taken,  has  never  yet  been 
rejected,  nor  can  ever,  I  think,  be  rejected  by  any  philoso- 
pher. .  .  .  By  liberty,  then,  we  can  only  mean  a  power  of 
acting  or  not  acting,  according  to  the  determinations  of  the 
will  (Locke).  ...  It  is  universally  allowed  that  nothing 
exists  without  a  cause  of  its  existence,  and  that  chance, 
when  strictly  examined,  is  a  mere  negative  word,  but  it  is 
pretended  that  some  causes  are  necessary,  some  not  neces- 
sary.    Here  then  is  the  advantage  of  definitions.     Let  any 

1  An  Enquiry  concerning  Human  Understanding,  sect.  VIII.,  pp.  71  f. 


DAVID   HUME  427 

one  define  a  cause,  without  comprehending,  as  a  part  of  the 
definition,  a  necessary  connection  with  its  effect.  Whoever 
attempts  to  do  that  will  be  obliged  either  to  employ  unin- 
telligible terms,  or  such  as  are  S3-nonymous  to  the  term 
wliich  he  endeavors  to  define,  and  if  the  definition  above 
mentioned  be  admitted,  liberty  when  opposed  to  necessity, 
not  to  constraint,  is  the  same  thing  witli  chance,  which  is 
universally  allowed  to  have  no  existence." 

Experience  refutes  the  dualism  of  will  and  physical 
agencies ;  it  also  destroj^s  the  dualism  of  reason  and  in- 
stinct. Animals,  as  well  as  men,  learn  many  things  from 
experience,  and  infer  that  the  same  events  will  always  fol- 
low the  same  causes.  By  this  principle  they  become 
acquainted  with  the  more  obvious  properties  of  external 
objects,  and  gradually,  from  their  birth,  treasure  up  a 
knowledge  of  the  nature  of  fii^e,  water,  earth,  stones,  heights, 
depths,  etc.,  and  of  the  effects  which  result  from  their 
operation.  The  ignorance  and  inexperience  of  the  young 
are  here  plainly  distinguishable  from  the  cunning  and 
sagacity  of  the  old,  who  have  learned,  from  long  observa- 
tion, to  avoid  what  hurt  them,  and  to  pursue  what  gave 
ease  or  pleasure.  A  horse  that  has  been  accustomed 
to  the  field  becomes  acquainted  with  the  proper  height 
which  he  can  leap,  and  will  never  attempt  A\hat  ex- 
ceeds liis  force  and  ability.  An  old  greyhound  will  trust 
the  more  fatiguing  part  of  the  chase  to  the  younger,  and 
will  place  himself  so  as  to  meet  the  hare  in  her  doubles  ; 
nor  are  the  conjectures  which  he  forms  on  this  occasion 
founded  in  any  tiling  hut  hia  observation  and  experience.  An- 
imals, therefore,  are  not  giiid('(l  in  llicsc  infciciitcs  Ity 
reasoning,  neither  are  children,  neither  are  the  generality 
of  mankind,  in  their  oidinary  actions  and  eonchisions ; 
neither  are  \\\v,  jiliilosopliei's  lliemselves.  Animals  nn- 
doubt(,'dly  owe  a  large  part  of  their  k#iowledge  to  wliat  we 
call  instinet.     But   the  crjierii/icnial  rcnsonlmj  itself ^  iclu'ch 


428  MODERN   PHILOSOPHY 

we  possess  in  coinmon  with  beasts,  is  nothing  hut  a  species  of 
instinct  or  mechanical  power  that  acts  in  us  unknown  to 
ourselves} 

The  universal  propensity  to  form  an  idea  of  God,  if  not 
an  original  instinct,  is  at  least  "  a  general  attendant  of 
human  nature."  ^  Tliis  proposition  contains  the  gist  of 
Hume's  theology.  He  is  an  outspoken  opponent  of  all 
positive  religions,  and  fuids  it  hard  to  regard  them  as 
"  anything  but  sick  men's  di'eams,"  or  "  the  playsome 
whimsies  of  monkeys  in  human  shape."  ^  The  doctrine  of 
immortality  is  "  a  riddle,  an  enigma,  an  inexplicable  mys- 
tery." He  opposes  the  following  arguments  to  miracles : 
There  is  not  to  be  found  in  all  history  any  miracle  attested 
by  a  sufficient  number  of  men,  of  such  unquestioned  good 
sense,  education,  and  learning,  as  to  secui'e  us  against  all 
delusion  in  themselves ;  of  such  undoubted  integrity,  as  to 
place  them  beyond  all  suspicion  of  any  design  to  deceive 
others ;  of  such  credit  and  reputation  in  the  eyes  of  man- 
kind, as  to  have  a  great  deal  to  lose  in  case  of  their  being 
detected  in  any  falsehood ;  and  at  the  same  time  attesting 
facts  performed  in  such  a  public  manner,  and  in  so  cele- 
brated a  part  of  the  world,  as  to  render  the  detection 
unavoidable.  The  passion  of  surprise  and  wonder  gives  a 
sensible  tendency  towards  the  belief  of  those  events  from 
which  it  is  derived.  Supernatural  relations  abound  among 
ignorant  and  barbarous  nations;  or  if  a  civilized  people 
has  ever  given  admission  to  any  of  them,  that  people  will 
be  found  to  have  received  them  from  ignorant  and  bar- 
barous ancestors,  who  transmitted  them  with  that  invio- 
lable sanction  and  authority  which  always  attend  received 
opinions.  It  is  a  general  maxim  that  no  testimony  is  suf- 
ficient to  establish  a  miracle,  unless  the  testimony  l:)e  of 

^  A71  Enquiry  concerning  Human  Understanding,  sect.  IX.,  pp.  85  if 
-   The  Naturcd  History  of  Religion,  sect.  XV.,  p.  362. 
3  Id.,  p.  362. 


DAVID  HUME  429 

such  a  kind  that  its  falsehood  -\voidd  be  more  miraculous 
than  the  fact  which  it  endeavors  to  establish.^ 

Although  Hume's  conclusions  in  theology,  as  well  as  in 
ethics  and  psychology,  wholly  agree,  on  the  one  hand,  with 
the  doctrines  of  the  rationalist  Spinoza,  and  on  the  other, 
with  those  of  the  French  materialists,  the  Scotch  philoso- 
pher nevertheless  maintains  to  the  end  liis  scepticism,  as  he 
loves  to  call  it,  or  criticism,  or  positivism,  as  we  designate 
it  nowadays,  in  order  to  distinguish  it  from  the  scepticism 
of  the  ancients.  True  scepticism,  as  he  conceives  it,  does 
not  consist  in  perpetually  doubting  all  things,  but  in  lim- 
iting "  our  enquiries  to  such  subjects  as  are  best  adapted 
to  the  narrow  capacity  of  human  understand ing.^  .  .  . 
This  narrow  limitation,  indeed,  of  our  enquiries,  is,  in 
ever}^  respect,  so  reasonable,  that  it  suffices  to  make  the 
slightest  examination  into  the  natural  powers  of  the  human 
mmd,  and  to  compare  them  Avith  their  objects,  in  order  to 
recommend  it  to  us."  ^ 

The  most  salient  feature  of  this  scepticism,  as  compared 
either  with  metaphysical  dogmatism,  or  the  naive  object- 
ivism of  cominon-seiue,  is  that  it  distinguishes  between 
things  as  they  are  and  things  as  they  appear  to  us.  With- 
out any  reasoning,  says  Hume,*  we  always  suppose  an 
external  universe,  which  depends  not  on  our  perception, 
but  would  exist,  though  Ave  and  every  sensible  creature 
were  absent  or  anniliilated.  This  very  table,  Avhich  Ave 
see  Avhite,  and  Avliicli  Ave  feel  liard,  is  believed  to  exist, 
independent  of  our  perception,  and  to  be  something  exter- 
nal to  our  mind,  wliieh  perceives  it.  Our  presence  bestows 
not  being  on  it;  our  absence  does  not  anniliilali-  it.  It 
preserves  its  existence  uniform  and  entire,  independent  of 
the  situation  of  intelligent  beings,  Avho  perceive  or  con- 
template it.     But  this  universal  and  primary  opinion  of 

^  Exsay  concerning  Human  UndcrsUiudiiKj,  soct.  X..  ]>.  !M. 

2  Id.,  XII,  p.  133.  «  Id.  *  /,/.,  p.  121. 


430  MODERN  rHlLOSOPHY 

all  men  is  soon  destroyed  by  the  slightest  philosophy. 
And  no  man  who  reflects  ever  doubted  that  the  exist- 
ences which  we  consider,  when  we  say,  this  house  and  that 
tree^  are  nothing  but  perce])tions  in  the  mind,  and  fleeting 
copies  or  representations  of  other  existences  which  remain 
uniform  and  independent.  Even  the  iirimary  qualities 
of  extension  and  solidity  are  perceptions  of  the  mind. 
—  (Berkeley.) 

Are  these  perceptions  produced  by  external  objects  re- 
sembling them?  Here  experience,  which  alone  can 
answer  this  question  of  fact,  is  and  must  be  entirely  silent. 
Do  external  objects  at  least  exist?  Experience  is  equally 
silent  on  this  point.  However,  to  doubt  the  existence  of 
bodies  is  an  excessive  scepticism,  which  action  and  employ- 
ment, and  the  common  occupations  of  life,  subvert.  This 
excessive  scepticism,  or  Pyrrhonism,  true  scepticism  rejects 
as  barren.^  Every  time  it  attempts  to  reappear,  nature 
puts  it  to  flight.  Nevertheless,  the  existence  of  bodies, 
being  a  matter  of  fact,  is  incapable  of  demonstration.  The 
only  objects  of  real  knowledge  and  demonstration  are  quan^ 
tit}^  and  number.  Experience  decides  concerning  all  mat- 
ters of  fact  and  existence,  and  experience  never  goes 
beyond  probability .^  —  (Carneades.) 

Hume's  teachings  were  violently  opposed,  in  the  name  of 
common-sense  and  morality,  by  Thomas  Reid,^  the  founder 
of   the   so-called   Scottish   school,    and    by   his    disciples, 

'  Essay  concerning  Hximan  Understanding,  p.  130. 

2  111  excluding  physics  from  the  sphere  of  pure  knowledge,  the 
idealist  Plato  advances  the  same  opinion. 

3  1710-1796.  Professor  at  Glasgow.  Inquiry  into  the  Human  Mind 
on  the  Principles  of  Common-sense,  London,  1764  ff.  [Selections  from 
the  Inquiry  by  E.  Sneath  in  Series  of  Modern  Philosophers,  Xew  York, 
1892.  Essays  on  the  Intellectual  Powers  of  Man,  1785;  Essays  on  the 
Active  Poioers  of  Man,  1788.  Complete  works,  ed.  by  W.  Hamilton, 
Edinburgh,  1827  ff.  On  the  Scotch  School  see  James  McCosh,  The 
Scottish  Philosophy,  London,  1875  ;  Xew  York,  1890.  —  Tr.]. 


DAVID   HUME  431 

Oswald,!  Beattie,^  and  Dugald  Stewart.^  All  of  these 
men  were  psychologists  of  merit,  but,  with  the  exception  of 
Reid,  mediocre  metaphysicians.^  In  order  to  refute  Hume 
it  was  necessary  to  put  oneself  in  his  position,  —  the  critical 
position,  —  to  use  liis  own  weapons,  to  renew  tlie  inquiry 
into  the  human  understanding,  and,  if  possible,  to  make  it 
more  thorough  and  complete.  Kant,  the  most  illustrious 
continuer  and  the  most  acute  critic  of  the  Scotch  philosopher, 
saw  that  very  clearly.  ''Common-sense,"  he  says,  "is  a 
precious  gift  of  God.  But  we  nuist  prove  it  by  its  acts,  by 
deliberate  and  rational  thought  and  speech,  and  not  appeal 
to  it  as  to  an  oracle,  vv^henever  reasons  fail  us.  It  is  one  of 
the  subtle  devices  of  our  times  to  appeal  to  common-sense 
when  our  knowledge  gives  out,  and  the  shallowest  fool  con- 
fidently measures  his  strength  with  the  profoundest  think- 
er's. .  .  .  And  what  is  this  appeal  to  common-sense  but  a 
bid  for  the  applause  of  the  rabble,  which  cannot  but  bring 
the  blush  to  the  cheek  of  the  philosopher?     I  cannot  help 

1  Appeal  to  Common  Sense  in  Belialf  of  Religion.  Edinlnirgh,  17GG. 

"  173.5-1803.  Professor  at  Edinburgh.  EssaiJ  on  the  Nature  and 
Tmmutahiliiy  of  Truth  in  Opposition  to  Sophis'ry  and  Scepticism,  Edin- 
burgh, 1770 :  Th<^orij  of  Lan(jua(je,  London,  1778 ;  Elements  of  the  Science 
of  Morals,  1790-1793. 

8  1753-1828.  Elements  of  the  I'hilusnplni  of  the  Human  Mind.  ?,  vols., 
London,  1792-1827;  Outlines  of  Moral  Philosoph;/.  1793  [ed.  witli  critical 
notes  by  J.  McCosli,  London,  lSf>3.  Collected  works,  ed.  by  W.  Ham- 
ilton, 10  vols.,  Edinburgh,  18.54-1858.  Thomas  Brown  (1778-1820), 
a  pupil  of  Stewart,  approximates  Hume  (Tnqnirij  into  the  Relation  of 
Cause  and  Effect,  Edinb.,  1803  IT.)  — Tn.]. 

*  In  the  i)liilosophy  of  William  Hamilton  (1788-185')),  the  Scottish 
school,  following  the  example  of  the  Academy,  culminates  in  scepti- 
cLsm,  which  it  had  vindertalcen  to  combat  in  David  Hume.  Sir  W.  Ham- 
ilton was  noted  for  his  Discussions  on  Philosophy  and  Literature,  London 
and  Edinburgh,  1852;  3d  ed.,  1800;  Lectures  on  ^fetaphysics,  2d  ed., 
1800.  and  on  L.otfic,  2d  ed.,  1800.  See  J.  Stuart  Mill,  Examination  of 
Sir  William  Hamilton's  Philosophy,  Lomlon,  1805;  5th  ed.,  1878; 
[Veitch,  Ilautilton  {Philosopliical  Classics)}. 


4S2  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

thinking  that  Hume  had  as  much  good  sense  as  Beattie." 
Reason  can  be  corrected  by  reason  alone.^ 

It  is  true,  Hume's  philosophy  was  not  unassailable. 
There  were  breaks  in  his  criticism ;  difficulties  were  eluded 
rather  than  solved.  If  experience  is  the  sole  source  of  knowl- 
edge, whence  arises  the  exceptional  character  of  absolute 
certainty  which  Hume  himself  concedes  to  mathematics  ?  If 
there  is  nothing  in  the  intellect  which  was  not  previously 
in  the  senses,  how  shall  we  explain  the  ideas  of  cause, 
necessary  connection,  and  necessity?  As  was  seen,  the 
Scotch  criticist  explains  the  idea  of  necessary  connection 
by  the  principle  of  habit.  After  the  constant  conjunction 
of  two  objects,  we  are  determined  by  custom  alone  to  expect 
the  one  from  the  appearance  of  the  other.  But  this  explan- 
ation does  not  suffice.  The  idea  of  necessity  cannot  come 
from  experience  alone,  for  the  widest  experience  supplies 
us  only  with  a  limited  number  of  cases ;  it  never  tells  us 
what  haj^pens  in  all  cases,  and  consequently  does  not  yield 
necessaiy  truth.  Besides,  it  is  not  true  that  the  notion  of 
causality  is  that  of  necessary  contiguity  in  time.^  Causality 
signifies  connection,  and  therefore  contains  an  element  not 

^  Prolegomena  zu  einer  jeden  lAinftigen  Metaphysik,  Preface,  vol.  III. 
(Rosenkranz),  p.  8. 

2  What  succession,  as  Thomas  Reid  aptly  remarks,  is  older  and 
more  regularly  observed  than  that  of  day  and  night  ?  Now,  it  never 
occurs  to  any  one  to  consider  night  as  an  effect  of  day,  and  day  as  the 
cause  of  night.  JMoreover,  there  is  this  peculiarity  about  the  truths  of 
experience  that  the  certainty  we  get  from  them  is  susceptible  of  in- 
crease and  diminution.  After  a  second  successful  test,  the  physician 
is  more  convinced  of  the  virtue  of  his  medicine  than  after  the  first, 
and  so  on,  until  a  long  line  of  authentic  cases  changes  into  certainty 
what  was  at  first  a  mere  presumption  and  surmise.  The  case  is  quite 
different  with  a  truth  like  the  following :  Nothing  happens  without  a 
cause.  The  child,  whose  experience  has  just  begun,  believes  in  it  with 
the  same  instinctive  force  as  the  adult  and  the  old  man,  and  experi- 
ences multiplied  by  the  myriads  can  neither  increase  nor  diminish  its 
certainty. 


DAVID   HUME  433 

included  iu  the  notion  of  contiguit}-.  Now,  Hume  expressly 
states  that  one  event  follows  another^  hut  that  we  can  never 
observe  any  tie  between  them.  They  seem  conjoined^  but  never 
connected.^  Hence,  if  experience  never  shoivs  us  a  cause, 
but  onl}'  a  succession  of  events  (for  that  is  what  Hume 
means  by  the  ill-cho§en  term  conjunction,  wliich  is  synony- 
mous with  connection),  must  we  not  either  negate  the  idea 
of  causation,  or  infer  a  diif erent  origin  for  it  ? 

At  this  point  Hume's   criticism  is  corrected  and  com- 
pleted by  that  of  Kant.^ 

^  An  Enquiry  concerning  Human  Understanding,  sec.  VII.,  p.  62. 

-  [Before  the  advent  of  Kant's  criticism,  German  philosophy  was 
dominated  by  the  Leibnizo- Wolffian  school  (see  pp.  368  f.),  which  cul- 
minated in  a  form  of  eclecticism  similar  to  the  English  common-sense 
philosophy.  J.  H.  Lambert  (1728-1777),  one  of  Kant's  correspondents, 
attempts  to  reconcile  Wolff  and  Locke,  German  metaphysics  and  Eng- 
lish empiricism  (Kosmologische  Briefe,  Augsburg,  1761)  ;  N.  Tetens 
(1736-1805),  who  influenced  Kant,  aims  to  reconcile  the  rationalistic 
and  sensationalistic  psychology  ( Versuch  iiber  die  menschlicke  Natur, 
1776);  M.  Knutzen  (died  1751),  Kant's  teacher,  endeavors  to  reconcile 
Wolffian  metaphysics,  Newton's  natural  philosophy,  and  orthodox 
theology.  Other  representatives  of  this  eclectic  movement  are  the  so- 
called  popular  philosophers,  whose  chief  aim  is  to  popularize  philosophy : 
Moses  Mendelssohn  (1729-1786;  complete  works,  7  vols.,  Leipsic, 
1813-44)  ;  C.  Garve  (1712-1798),  the  translator  of  Ferguson's  and  A. 
Smith's  writings ;  J.  J.  Engel  (1741-1802  ;  Der  Philosoph  f/ir  die  Welt, 
1775-77);  T.  Abbt  (1738-1766;  Vom  Tode  furs  Vaterland,  Berlin, 
1761);  Ernst  Platner  (1741-1818;  Philosophische  Aphorismen,  1776); 
F.  Nicolai  (1733-1811).  To  the  Aufkldrung  also  belong  the  deist 
II.  S.  Reiinarus  (1694-1765;  Ahhandlnngen  run  den  vornehmsten  W(dir- 
heiten  der  nalUrlichen  Religion,  Hamburg,  1754,  6th  ed.,  1794;  aud  the 
poet  G.  E.  Leasing  (1729-1781).  —  Tii.] 


434  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

§  62.     Kanti 

Immanuel  Kant,2  jjQj.j^  in  KonigsLerg,  Prussia,  1724, 

was  the  son  of  plain  people.     His  paternal  grandparents 

emigrated   to    Germany   from    the    fatherland   of   Hume. 

After  pursuing  his  studies  at  the  University  of  his  native 

1  [For  the  period  beginning  with  Kant  see,  besides  the  general  and 
modern  histories  of  philosophy,  the  works  of  Chalybseus,  Biedermann, 
Miclielet,  Willni,  Fortlage,  Harms,  Zeller,  Seth,  Eoyce,  etc.,  mentioned 
on  pp.  12-15 ;  also  O.  Liebmann,  Kant  und  die  Epigonen,  Stuttgart, 
1865. —  Tr.] 

2  Kant's  complete  works,  published  by:  G.  Hartenstein,  10  vols., 
Leipsic,  1838-39 ;  new  edition,  8  vols.,  Leipsic,  1867-69 ;  Rosenkranz 
and  Schubert,  12  vols.,  Leipsic,  1838-42 ;  [with  notes  in  Kirchmann's 
Philosoplmche  Bibliothek,  Heidelberg,  1880  ff.  The  three  Critiques  and 
several  other  works,  ed.  by  K.  Kehrbach,  in  Reclam's  Universal-Bib- 
liolhek,  Leipsic.  A  new  edition  is  being  prepared  by  the  Berlin 
Academy  of  Sciences.  B.  P>dmann  has  published  Reflexionen  Kanfs 
ztir  tritischen  Philoxophie  in  2  vols.,  Leipsic,  1882-84  ;  R.  Reicke,  Lo.^e 
Blatter  aus  KanCs  NacJdass,  Kbnigsberg,  1889,  1895].  Charles  Villers, 
Philosophie  de  Kant,  Metz,  1801 ;  Amant  Saintes,  Histoire  de  la  vie  et 
de  la  philosophie  de  Kant,  Paris,  1844 ;  V.  Cousin,  Lemons  sur  Kant, 
Paris,  1842,  4th  ed.,  1864  [Engl.  tr.  by  A.  Henderson,  London,  1870]  ; 
£mile  Saisset,  Le  scepticisme,  iSnefidhne,  Pascal,  Kant,  Paris,  1865; 
D.  Nolen,  La  critifjue  de  Kant  et  la  melaphysique  de  Leibniz,  Paris,  1875; 
M.  Desdouits,  La  philosophie  de  Kant  d'aprh  les  trois  critiques,  Paris, 
1876  ;  [F.  Paulsen,  Versuch  einer  Entwickelungsgeschichte  der  kantischen 
Erkenntnisstheorie,  Leipsic,  1875 ;  A.  Riehl,  Der  philosophische  Kriticis- 
mus,  etc.,  vol.  I.,  Leipsic,  1876  ;  E.  Caird,  The  Philosophy  of  Kant, 
London,  1876  ;  same  author,  The  Critical  Philosophy  of  Kant,  2  vols., 
London  and  New  York,  1889;  C.  Cantoni,  E.  Kant,  3  vols.,  Milan, 
1879-1883  ;  Adamson,  The  Philosophy  of  Kant,  Edinbixrgh,  1879  ;  W. 
Wallace,  Kant  {Philosophical  Classics),  London,  1882;  K.  Fischer's 
Kant  in  his  History  of  Philosophy  (see  p.  12) ;  F.  Paulsen,  Was  Kant 
uns  sein  kann  {V.  f.  w.  Ph.,  pp.  1-96,  1881)  ;  Journal  of  Speculative 
Philosophy,  ed.  by  W.  T.  Harris,  July  and  October  numbers,  1881; 
J.  G.  Schurman,  Kant's  Critical  Problem  (Phil.  Rev.,  XL,  2,  1893)  ; 
E.  Adickes,  Kant-Studien,  Kiel  and  Leipsic,  1895  ;  same  author.  Bibli- 
ography of  Writings  by  Kant  and  on  Kant,  in  the  Philosophical  Revieiv, 
beginning  with  vol.  II.,  3  ff.  See  also  Schopenhauer's  Kritik  der 
Kantischen  Philosophie,  and  T.  H.  Green's  Lectures  on  the  Philo.^ophy 
of  Kant. —Tr.] 


KANT  435 

city  (1740-1746),  Kant  became  a  private  tutor,  tlien  a 
Piivatdocent  in  the  University  of  Konigsberg  (1755), 
where  he  taught  logic,  ethics,  metaphysics,  mathematics, 
cosmography,  and  geography.  He  was  made  full  Professor 
in  1770,  and  continued  his  lectures  until  1797.  In  1804 
he  died,  rich  in  honors  and  in  years.  Kant  never  left  his 
native  province,  and  never  married.  He  enjoyed  good 
health,  was  absolutely  regular  in  his  daily  habits,  free  from 
the  cares  of  family-life,  and,  for  three-quarters  of  a  cen- 
tury, devoted  to  science  and  intellectual  pleasures.  Thus 
he  realized,  in  a  certain  measure,  the  ideal  of  the  philoso- 
phers of  Athens  and  Rome ;  but  his  cheerful  temperament 
and  sociable  disposition  softened  the  harshness  in  the  char- 
acter of  the  Stoic  sage.  When  we  remember,  besides,  that 
he  was  a  reformer  in  philosophy,  it  will  hardl}-  surprise  us 
to  hear  that  history  likens  him  to  Socrates. 

His  philosophical  writings  may  be  divided  into  two  sep- 
arate classes.  Those  of  his  dogmatic  period  ^  betray  the 
disciple  of  Leibniz  and  Wolff ;  though  anticipating,  espe- 
cially liis  Trdiime  eines  Geistcrseliers  (17()G),  the  teach- 
ings of  his  maturer  years.  Those  of  his  second  period 
(1770-1804),  during  which  the  influence  of  Hume  led 
him  to  break  with  dogmatism,  present  a  new  philosophy. 
Chief  among  them  are :  De  vnindi  sensibilis  atque  intclligi- 
hllis  forma  et  j^rincijiiis'^  (1770);  Kritik  dcr  reinen  Ver~ 
nunft  (1781 ;  2d  edition,  revised,  1787) :  ^  liis  master-work, 

*  To  the  first  period  l)elon;;.s  his  Allf/emeine  Naturgeschkhte  unci 
Theorie  ties  Himmeh,  one  of  the  masterpieces  of  general  physics.  [For 
the  development  of  Kant's  critical  philosophy  consult,  especially,  the 
works  of  Paulsen,  Riehl,  and  Caird,  mentioned  in  the  preoedinc;  note, 
as  well  as  Hartmann's  KanCs  I'lrkeiinliuan-lheone,  etc.,  Leipsic,  18!)l. 
-Tk.] 

2  [Translated  into  Knglish,  with  an  introduction  and  discussion,  by 
W.  .1.  Kckoff,  New  York,  1894.  —  Tn.] 

2  [Separate  editions  of  the  Kriti/,;  \>y  Ki'luliadi  (l)nsed  u]i(iii  ilu' 
first  edition).  P..  Krdrnann,  and  K.  Adickcs  (l>ot  li  Imsril  upon  llir  sec- 
ond).    Kngl.   traiislalions  (of  2d  ed.)  by  Aleiklcjolin  (lioliti's  Library), 


436  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

wliich  forms  the  basis  of  the  following:  Prolegomena  zu 
einerjeden  kuiiftigen  Metapkysik'^  (1783);  Grundleyung  zur 
Metaphysik  der  Sitten"^  (1785);  Metaphysische  Anfangs- 
griinde  der  Naturwissenschaft^  (1786)  ;  Kritik  der  prakti- 
schen  Vernunft^  (1788);  Kritik  der  l/rtheilskraft^  (1190); 
Die  Religion  innerhalb  der  Grenzen  der  blossen  Vernunft^ 
(1793). 

Our  age,  as  Kant  often  says,  is  the  age  of  criticism  ;  and 
by  that  word  he  understands  the  philosophy  which,  before 
affirming,  weighs,  and,  before  assuming  to  know,  inquires 
into  the  conditions  of  knowledge.  Not  only  is  the  philoso- 
phy of  Kant  criticism  in  this  general  sense ;  it  is  also 
criticism  in  the  special  sense  of  being  a  theory  of  ideas ;  it 
is  critical,  as  distinguished  from  the  extreme  theories  of 
Leibniz  and  Locke,  in  that  it  discriminates  {KpiveLV,  dis- 
cernere},  in  the  formation  of  ideas,  between  the  product  of 
sensation  and  the  product  of  the  spontaneous  activity  of 

London,  1854;  (of  1st  ed.,  with  supplements  of  2d),  by  Max  Miiller, 
London,  1881 ;  Paraphrase  by  Maliaffy  and  Bernard,  London  and 
New  York,  1889  ;  Selections  (from  Critique  of  Pure  Reason,  Critique  oj 
Judgment,  and  ethical  writings)  by  J.  Watson  {Modern  Philosophers), 
2d  ed.,  New  York,  1888.  See  also  Stirling's  partial  translation  of  the 
Critique  in  the  work  cited,  p.  437,  note  1.  —  Tr.] 

1  [Engl.  tr.  by  Mahaffy  and  Bernard,  London  and  New  York, 
1889;  by  Bax  {Bohn's  Library).  —  Tr.] 

2  {^Foundation  of  the  Metaphysics  of  Ethics;  Engl.  tr.  by  T.  K. 
Abbott,  4th  ed.,  London,  1889.  — Tr.] 

3  [Metaphysical  Foundations  of  Natural  Science ;  Engl.  tr.  by  Bax 
(Bohn's  Library).  —  Tr.] 

4  [Critique  of  Practical  Reason;  Engl.  tr.  by  T.  K.  Abbott  in  same 
volume  as  above.  —  Ti?.] 

6  [Critique  of  Judfjment ;  Engl.  tr.  by  J.  H.  Bernard,  London  and 
New  York,  1892.  — Tr.] 

*  [Relir/ion  tvithin  the  Bounds  of  Pure  Reason;  first  part  tr.  by  T.  K. 
Abbott  in  the  same  volume  with  the  ethical  writings,  .mpra.  Trans- 
lations of  the  Philosophy  of  Law  and  Principles  of  Politics,  including 
essay  on  Perpetual  Peace,  by  W.  Hastie,  Edinburgh,  1887,  1891. 
-^Tr.] 


KANT  437 

pure  reason.  It  acknowledges  with  sensationalism  that  the 
matter  of  our  ideas  is  furnished  by  the  senses  ;  A\ith idealism 
it  claims  that  their /o;v?i  is  the  work  of  reason,  —  that  reason, 
by  its  own  laws,  transforms  into  ideas  the  given  manifold  of 
sensation.  Criticism  neither  aims  to  be  sensationalistic  nor 
intellectualistic  in  the  extreme  sense  of  these  terms,  but 
transcendental ;  i.  e.,  going  beyond  {transcend ens)  the  sen- 
sationalistic and  idealistic  doctrines,  it  succeeds  in  reaching 
a  higher  standpoint,  which  enables  it  to  appreciate  the  rela- 
tive truth  and  falsehood  in  the  theories  of  dogmatism.  It 
is  a  method  rather  than  a  system,  an  introduction  to  philos- 
ophy rather  than  a  finished  system.  Its  motto  is  the  'yvoidt 
aeavTov  of  Socrates,  which  it  interprets  to  mean :  Before 
constructing  any  system  whatever,  reason  must  inquire  into 
its  resources  for  constructing  it. 

In  its  examination  of  reason,  criticism  carefully  separates 
the  chfferent  elements  of  this  faculty,  and,  true  to  the  critical 
spirit  whence  it  springs,  distinguishes  between  the  theo- 
retical order,  the  practical  order,  and  the  a^sthetical  order. 
Reason  resembles  a  queen,  who,  under  three  different 
names,  governs  three  separate  states,  each  having  its  own 
laws,  customs,  and  tendencies.  In  the  tlieoretical  spliere, 
it  manifests  itself  as  the  faculty  of  knowing,  or  the  sense 
of  truth  ;  in  the  practical  sphere,  as  the  active  faculty,  or 
the  sense  of  goodness ;  in  the  ffisthetical  sphere,  as  the 
sense  of  beauty  and  teleological  fitness.  The  Kantian  [)hi- 
losophy  gives  each  of  these  three  spheres  its  due,  exam- 
ining one  after  another,  without  prejudice  or  dogmatic 
prepossessions. 

I.     Critique  of  Pure  Reason  1 

And,  first  of  all,  it  asks  :   What  is  knowlfdgc? 

An  idea  taken  by  itself  (man,  earth,  lieat)  is  not  knowl- 

'  [H.  Vaihiiij((jr,  Cmmncnlnr  zu  Knnfs  Kritik  tier  rrimii  Vinmnft, 
vol.  J.,  Stuttgart,  lb«l  ;  vul.  11,  //;.,  ISlfL';  II.  Colxrw,  KauCs  Tkeorieder 


438  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

edge  ;  in  order  to  become  knowledge,  the  ideas  of  man, 
earth,  and  heat  must  be  combined  with  otlier  ideas  ;  there 
must  be  a  subject  and  a  predicate,  i.  e.,  a  judgment.  Ex- 
amples :  Man  is  a  responsible  being ;  the  earth  is  a  planet ; 
heat  expands  bodies.  Hence,  all  knowledge  is  formulated 
into  propositions  ;  all  knowledge  is  judgment,  but  not  every 
judgment  is  knowledge. 

There  are  analytic  judgments  and  synthetic  judgments.^ 
The  former  merely  analyze  {avaXveiv)  an  idea,  without  ad- 
ding anything  new  to  it.  Example :  Bodies  are  extended. 
The  predicate  extended  adds  nothing  to  tlie  subject  that 
is  not  already  contained  in  it.  This  judgment  tells  me 
notliing  new  ;  it  does  not  increase  my  knowledge.  When, 
on  the  other  hand,  I  say :  The  earth  is  a  planet,  I  make  a 
synthetic  judgment,  i.  e.,  I  join  {avvTiOrjixL)  to  the  idea  of 
the  earth  a  new  predicate,  the  idea  of  a  planet,  which  can- 
not be  said  to  be  inseparable  from  the  idea  of  the  earth ; 
nay,  it  has  taken  man  thousands  of  years  to  connect  it  with 
the  latter.  Hence,  synthetic  judgments  enrich,  extend,  and 
increase  my  knowledge,  and  alone  constitute  knowledge  ; 
Avhich  is  not  the  case  with  analytic  judgments. 

But  here  Kant  makes  an  important  reservation.  Not 
every  synthetic  judgment  is  necessarily  scientific  knowl- 
edo-e.  In  order  to  constitute  real  scientific  knowledge, 
with  which  alone  we  are  here  concerned,  a  judgment  must 
be  true  in  all  cases  ;  the  union  which  it  establishes  between 
subject  and  predicate  should  not  be  accidental,  but  neces- 

Erfahrung,  Berlin,  1871,  2d  ed.,  1885  ;  J.  Volkelt,  Kanfs  Erl-enntnhstheo- 
rie.  etc.,  Leipsic,  1879 ;  E.  Pfleiderer,  KantUcher  Ki-iticismus  und  englische 
Philosophie,  Tubingen,  1881  ;  J.  K.  Sthling,  Text-hook  to  Kant,  Edin- 
burgh and  London,  1881 ;  Watson,  Kant  and  his  English  Critics,  Lon- 
don, 1881 ;  G.  S.  Morris,  Kant's  Critique  of  Pure  Reason  (Griggs's 
Philosophical  Classics),  Chicago,  1882  ;  K.  Lasswitz,  Die  Lehre  Kant's 
von  der  Idealildt  des  Raumes  und  der  Zeit,  Berlin,  1883.  —  Tr.]. 

1  Kriiik  der  reinen  Vernunft  (Ilosenkrauz),  p.  21 ;  Prolegomena, 
p.  16. 


KANT  439 

saiy.  "  It  is  warm,"  is  undoubtedly  a  synthetic  judgment, 
but  it  is  accidental  and  contingent,  for  it  may  be  cold  to- 
morrow ;  hence  it  is  not  a  scientilic  proposition.  Wlien- 
ever,  however,  you  say :  Heat  expands,  you  state  a  fact 
which  will  be  as  true  to-morrow  and  a  thousand  years  from 
now  as  it  is  to-day ;  you  state  a  necessary  proposition  and 
a  concept  properly  so-called. 

But  what  right  have  I  to  affirm  that  this  proposition  is 
necessar}^,  universal,  true  in  every  instance  ?  Does  expe- 
rience reveal  to  me  all  cases,  and  are  there  no  possible 
cases,  beyond  our  observation,  in  which  heat  does  not  ex- 
pand the  boches  which  it  usually  expands  ?  Hume  is  right 
on  this  point.  Since  experience  always  furnishes  oidy  a 
limited  number  of  cases,  it  cannot  yield  necessity  and 
universality.  Hence,  a  judgment  a  posteriori,  i.  e.,  one 
based  solely  on  experience,  cannot  constitute  scientific 
knowledge.  In  order  to  be  necessary,  or  scientilic,  a  judg- 
ment must  rest  on  a  rational  basis  ;  it  must  be  rooted  in 
reason  as  well  as  in  observation ;  it  must  be  a  judgment 
a  priori.  Now,  mathematics,  physics,  and  metaphysics 
consist  of  synthetic  judgments  a  priori.^  Hence,  to  sum 
up :  Knowledge  may  be  defined  as  synthetic  judgment 
a  priori.  This  is  Kant's  answer  to  his  preliminary  ques- 
tion :    What  is  knowledge  ? 

How  can  we  form  synthetic  judgments  a  priori?  In 
other  terms  :  Under  what  conditions  is  knowledge  possible  ? 
This  is  the  fundamental  problem  which  Kantian  criticism 
undertakes  to  solve.- 

It  is  possible,  Kant  answers,  providcfl  the  senses  fnrnish 
the  materials  for  a  jndgment,  and  reason  the  cement 
needed  to  unite  tlieni.  Take  the  proposition  already  cited: 
Heat  expands  bodies.      This  proposition  contains  two  dis- 

1  Prolegomena,  \>\i.  22  &.  —  Before  Kant's  tnuc,  mathematical  pro 
poKitioiiH  were  regarded  as  analytic. 
'  Proleyomeiia,  pp.  L'S  IT. 


440  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

tinct  elements:  (1)  the  elements  furnished  by  sensation: 
heat,  expansion,  bodies ;  (2)  an  element  not  given  by  sen- 
sation, bnt  derived  solely  from  the  intellect:  the  causal 
relation  wliich  the  sentence  in  question  establishes  between 
heat  and  the  expansion  of  bodies.  What  is  true  of  our 
example  is  true  of  every  scientific  judgment.  Every  scien- 
tific judgment  necessarily  contains  sensible  elements  and 
pure  or  rational  elements.  In  denying  the  former,  idealism 
ignores  the  fact  that  persons  born  blind  have  no  idea  of 
color,  and,  consequently,  no  notion  of  light ;  in  denying 
the  rational,  innate,  a  priori  element,  sensationalism  forgets 
that  the  most  refined  senses  of  the  idiot  are  incapable  of 
sup'frestingr  a  scientific  notion  to  him.  The  critical  philos- 
ophy  occupies  a  place  between  these  two  extreme  theories, 
and  recognizes  both  the  role  of  sensibility  and  that  of  pure 
reason  in  the  formation  of  our  judgments. 

But  we  must  make  a  more  penetrating  analysis  of  the 
faculty  of  Ivnowledge.  As  we  have  just  seen,  it  is  divided 
into  two  sub-faculties,  one  of  which  furnishes  the  materials 
of  our  knowledge,  while  the  other  fashions  them,  or  makes 
concepts  of  them.  Hence,  our  examination  of  reason,  in 
the  broad  sense  of  faculty  of  knowledge,  will  take  up: 
(1)  the  sensibility  (intuitive  reason)  and  (2)  the  under- 
standing proper.^ 

1.    Critique  of  Sensibility^  or  Transcendental  ^stJietic 

We  now  know  in  a  general  way  that  knowledge  is  the 
common  product  of  sensibility  and  the  understanding. 
But  what  are  the  conditions  of  sense-perception,  or,  to  use 
Kant's  language,  intuition  {Anschauung)  ? 

Sensibility,  we  said,  furnishes  the  understanding  with 
the  materials  of  its  knowledge.  But  the  materials  them- 
selves, of  wliich  the  garment  is  to  be  made,  already  have 

1  Krilik,  p.  28. 


KANT  441 

a  certain  shape;  they  are  no  h3nger  absolutely  raw  ma- 
terials :  the  latter  have  been  subjected  to  the  preliminary 
processes  of  spinning  and  weaving.  Or,  in  other  words, 
our  sensibility  is  not  purely  passive ;  it  does  not  turn 
over  to  the  understanding  the  materials  which  the  latter 
needs,  without  adding  something  of  its  own ;  it  impresses 
its  stamp,  its  own  forms,  upon  things  ;  or,  as  one  might  sa}', 
it  marks  the  perceived  object  just  as  the  outline  of  our  hands 
is  traced  upon  a  handful  of  snow.  It  is  in  particular 
what  the  faculty  of  knowledge  is  in  general :  both  receptive 
and  active ;  it  receives  a  mysterious  substance  from  without, 
and  makes  an  intuition  of  it.  Hence,  there  are,  in  every 
intuition,  two  elements  :  a  pure  or  a  priori  element  and  an 
a  j^osteriori  element,  form  and  matter,  something  that  reason 
produces  spontaneously  and  something,  I  know  not  what, 
derived  elsewhere. 

What  is  this  form  ?  What  are  the  a  j^riori  elements 
which  our  sensibility  does  not  receive,  but  draws  from  its 
own  nature  and  adds  to  each  of  its  intuitions,  just  as  the 
digestive  apparatus  adds  its  juices  to  the  swallowed  food, 
in  order  to  transform  it  into  chyle  ?  These  a  priori  intui- 
tions, which  sensationalism  denies,  and  whose  existence  the 
Critique  of  Pure  Reason  proves,  are  space^  the  form  of  the 
outer  sense,  and  time^  the  form  of  tlie  inner  sense.  Space 
and  time  are  original  intuitions  of  reason,  prior  to  all  expe- 
rience :  this  is  the  innnortal  discovery  of  Kant,  and  one  of 
the  fundamental  teachings  of  the  critical  philosophy.^ 

The  following  proofs  may  be  offered  in  support  of  tlie 
view  that  space  and  time  come  from  reason  and  not  from 
experience:  (1)  Although  tlie  infant  has  no  accurate  notion 
of  distance,  it  tends  to  withdraw  from  disagreeable  objects 
and  to  ap[)roach  sucli  as  give  it  pleasure.  Hence  it  knows 
a  priori  that  such  objects  are  in  front  of  it,  by  the  side  of 
it,  beyond  it,  etc.  Prior  to  all  other  intuitions,  it  has  the 
»  Krilik;  pp.  ;n-51. 


442  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

idea  of  before^  beside,  beyond,  i.  e.,  the  idea  of  space,  of  which 
these  are  but  particuhir  applications.  The  same  is  true  of 
time.  Prior  to  all  perception,  the  child  has  a  feeling  of 
before  and  after,  without  which  its  perceptions  would  be  a 
confused,  disordered,  disconnected  mass.  That  is,  prior  or 
a  priori  to  every  other  intuition,  it  has  the  idea  of  time. 

(2)  Another  proof  that  space  and  time  are  a  priori  intui- 
tions: Thought  may  abstract  from  everything  that  fills 
space  and  time  ;  in  no  case  can  it  abstract  from  space  and 
time  themselves.  This  proves  that  these  intuitions,  instead 
of  coming  from  without,  are,  so  to  say,  of  a  piece  with 
reason ;  that  they  are,  in  the  inaccurate  language  of  dog- 
matic philosophy,  innate,  that  they  are,  in  the  last  analysis, 
identical  with  reason. 

(3)  But  the  decisive  proof  of  the  a-priority  of  the  ideas  of 
space  and  time  is  furnished  by  mathematics.  Arithmetic 
is  the  science  of  duration,  the  successive  moments  of  which 
constitute  number.  Geometry  is  the  science  of  space.  Now 
arithmetical  and  geometrical  truths  possess  the  character  of 
absolute  necessity.  No  one  would  seriously  maintain :  My 
previous  experience  teaches  me  that  three  times  three  are 
nine,  or  that  the  three  angles  of  a  triangle  are  equal  to  two 
right  angles,  etc.,  for  everybody  knows  that  such  truths  are 
independent  of  experience.  Experience,  being  restricted 
to  a  limited  number  of  cases,  cannot  give  a  truth  the  abso- 
lute and  unquestionable  character  possessed  by  the  axioms 
of  mathematics  ;  these  truths  do  not  spring  from  experience 
but  from  reason:  hence  the  sovereign  authority  which 
characterizes  them,  and  the  impossibility  of  doubting  them 
for  a  single  instant.  But  such  truths  are  concerned  with 
space  and  time.  Hence,  space  and  time  are  intuitions  a 
priori. 

Shall  we  call  them  general  ideas  formed  by  comparison 
and  abstraction?  But  an  idea  thus  formed  necessarily 
contains  fewer  characteristics  than  the  particular  idea ;  the 


KANT  443 

idea  of  man  is  infinitely  less  comprehensive  and  poorer 
than  the  particular  idea  of  Socrates,  Plato,  or  Aristotle. 
Now,  who  would  be  bold  enough  to  assert  that  universal 
space  contains  less  than  a  particular  space,  or,  infinite  time, 
less  than  a  fixed  period  of  time  ?  The  ideas  of  space  and 
time  are,  therefore,  not  the  results  of  an  intellectual  opera- 
tion, of  the  comparison  of  different  sj^aces,  from  which  the 
general  idea  of  space  is  derived;  or  of  a  comparison  of 
moments  of  duration,  whence  arises  the  general  idea  of 
time.  They  arc  not  results,  but  principles,  conditions  a 
priori  and  sine  quiLus  non  of  perception.  The  common 
man  imagines  that  he  perceives  space  and  time,  that  space 
and  time  are,  just  like  their  contents,  objects  of  perception. 
But  as  a  matter  of  fact,  it  is  as  impossible  for  them  to  be 
perceived  as  it  is  for  the  eye  to  see  itself  (its  image  in  the 
mirror  is  not  the  eye  itself).  We  see  all  things  in  space, 
but  we  cannot  see  space  itself,  nor  perceive  duration  inde- 
pendently of  its  content.  All  perception  presupposes  the 
ideas  of  space  and  time ;  and  unless  we  liad  these  ideas 
a  priori^  unless  reason  created  tliem  prior  to  all  its  intu- 
itions, unless  they  pre-existed  as  original  and  inalienable 
forms,  sense-perception  could  never  take  [)lace. 

We  now  know  tlie  con(htions  under  wliicli  sense-percep- 
tion operates.  It  depends  on  the  a  p)riori  ideas  of  space 
and  time,  which  are,  as  it  were,  the  prehensile  organs  of 
sensibility.  These  ideas  are  not  images  corresponding  to 
external  objects.  There  is  no  object  called  space,  nor  an 
object  called  time.  Time  and  space  are  not  objects  of  per- 
ception, but  modes  of  jHrceiving  objects,  instinctive  habits, 
inhering  in  the  thinking  subject. 

The  tranHcendental  idealiti/  of  S|)aee  and  time  :  such  is 
the  ijnpoitant  conclusion  reached  by  tlie  critical  examina- 
tion of  sensibility,  the  mene  thekel  of  dogmatism.  Let  us 
see  what  tliis  conclusion  iinj)bes.  If  neither  space  nor 
time  exists  independently  of  reas-^ijii  and  its  intuitive  activ- 


444  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

ity,  then  things,  considered  in  themselves  and  independently 
of  the  reason  which  thinks  them,  have  no  existence  in  time 
or  space.  Hence,  if  sensibility,  in  consequence  of  an  in- 
stinctive and  inevitable  habit,  shows  us  things  in  time  and 
space,  it  does  not  show  them  as  they  are  in  themselves, 
but  as  they  appear  to  it  through  its  spectacles,  one  of 
whose  glasses  is  called  time ;  the  other,  space.  As  they 
appear  to  it !  which  means  that  sensibility  gives  us  appear- 
ances, or  (f)atv6fjb6va,  and  that  it  is  incapable  of  giving 
us  the  thing-in-itself,  the  vovjxevov.  And  since  the  under- 
standing obtains  the  materials  which  it  needs  exclusively 
from  the  senses,  since  there  is  no  other  channel  through 
which  the  materials  can  come,  it  is  evident  that  it  always 
and  necessarily  operates  upon  phenomena,  and  that  the 
mystery  concealed  beneath  the  phenomenon  forever  bafdes 
it,  as  it  forever  baffles  the  senses. 

2.    Critique  of  the  Understanding^  or  Transcendental  Logic'^ 

Kant  distinguishes,  in  the  general  faculty  of  knowledge, 
between  sensibility,  which  produces  intuitions  or  sensible 
ideas,  and  the  understanding,  which  elaborates  them. 
In  the  understanding  he  again  distinguishes  between  the 
faculty  of  judgment,  i.  e.,  tlie  faculty  of  connecting  the 
intuitions  with  each  other  according  to  certain  a  priori 
laws  {Verstand),  and  the  faculty  of  arranging  our  judg- 
ments under  a  series  of  universal  Ideas  (  Vernunft,  reason, 
in  the  narrowest  sense  of  the  word).  The  inquiry  con- 
cerning the  understanding  is  therefore  subdivided  into  the 
critique  of  the  faculty  of  judgment  (Verstand)  and  the 
critique  of  reason  proper  (  Vernunft'),  or,  to  use  Kant's  own 
language,  into  the  Transcendental  Analytic  and  the  Tran- 
icendental  Dialectic. 

1  Kritik,  pp.  55  fi. 


KANT  445 

A.    Transcendental.  Analytic 

Just  as  the  intuitive  faculty  perceives  all  things  in  time 
and  space,  reason  moulds  its  judgments  according  to  cer- 
tain forms  or  general  concepts,  which,  in  philosophy,  have 
been  called  categories,  ever  since  the  days  of  Aristotle. 
Kant  agrees  with  Hume  that  the  highest  category,  the  idea  of 
cause,  conceived  as  the  necessary  relation  between  two  phe- 
nomena, is  not  derived  from  experience.  Hume,  however, 
regards  it  as  the  result  of  our  habit  of  seeing  certain  facts 
constantly  conjoined  together,  and  consequently  considers 
it  as  a  prejudice  useful  to  science,  but  without  metaphysi- 
cal value.  Kant,  on  the  other  hand,  defends  its  validity ; 
and  from  the  impossibility  of  deriving  it  from  experience, 
infers  that  it  is  innate.  The  idea  of  cause  and  all  other 
categories  are,  accorcUng  to  him,  a  priori  functions  of  the 
understanding,  means  of  knoivledge  and  not  objects  of  knowl- 
edge, just  as  time  and  Space  are,  according  to  the  same 
philosopher,  modes  of  seeing  (iyituendi)  and  not  objects  of 
intuition. 

Not  content  with  proving,  against  empiricism,  that  the 
categories  are  innate,  Kant  attempts  to  make  out  an  in- 
ventory of  them,  and  to  deduce  them  from  a  principle. 
He  gives  us  a  complete  list;  indeed,  far  too  complete  a 
list.  His  love  of  symmetry  impels  him  to  add  a  category 
of  limitation  (which  Schopenhauer  ingeniously  calls  a  false 
window),  and  a  category  of  being  and  non-being  {Dasein 
und  Nichtsein),  which  he  erroneously  distinguishes  from 
the  concepts  of  reality  and  negation.  As  far  as  the  logi- 
cal deduction  of  a  priori  ideas  is  concerned,  we  must  confess 
that  it  is  merely  a  plum  desiderium ;  no  one  before  Hegel 
has  really  made  a  serious  attempt  to  solve  this  problem. 

The  tlieory  of  judgment  which  Kant  linds  in  traditional 
logic,  serves  as  his  guide  in  the  discovery  and  classifica- 
tion of  the  categories.     Indeerl,  ho  says,  tlic  judgment  is 


446  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

the  liigliest  function  of  the  understanding.  Now  the  cate- 
gories are  the  forms  according  to  which  wo  judge.  Hence 
there  are  as  many  categories  as  there  are  kinds  of  judg- 
ments. Logic  enumerates  twelve  of  them:  (1)  the  uni- 
versal judgment  (All  men  are  mortal) ;  (2)  the  particular 
judgment  (Some  men  are  pliilosophers) ;  (o)  the  singular 
judgment  (Peter  is  a  mathematician) ;  (4)  the  affirmative 
judgment  (Man  is  mortal);  (5)  the  negative  judgment 
(The  soul  is  not  mortal) ;  (6)  the  limiting  judgment  (The 
soul  is  immortal);  (7)  the  categorical  judgment  (God  is 
just) ;  (8)  the  hypothetical  judgment  (If  God  is  just,  he  will 
punish  the  wicked) ;  (9)  the  disjunctive  judgment  (Either 
the  Greeks  or  the  Romans  are  the  leading  nation  of  anti- 
quity) ;  (10)  the  problematical  judgment  (The  planets  are, 
perhaps,  inliabited) ;  (11)  the  assertory  judgment  (The  earth 
is  round) ;  (12)  the  apodictic  judgment  (God  must  be  just). 
The  first  three  express  totality,  plurality,  and  unit}',  i.  e., 
in  a  word,  the  idea  of  quantitij  ;  the  fourth,  fifth,  and  sixth 
express  reality,  negation,  and  limitation,  or,  the  idea  of 
quality ;  the  seventh,  eighth,  and  ninth  express  substan- 
tiality and  inherence,  causality  and  dependence,  and  reci- 
procity, or,  in  short,  relation ;  fmally,  the  tenth,  eleventh, 
and  twelfth  express  possibility  and  impossibility,  being 
and  non-being,  necessity  and  contingency,  i.  e.,  the  idea  of 
modality. 

There  are,  therefore,  twelve  categories,  arranged  in 
threes,  under  four  groups  or  fundamental  categories :  quan- 
tity, quality,  relation,  and  modality.  One  of  these,  relation., 
governs  and  embraces  all  the  rest.  It  is  the  highest  cate- 
gory, since  every  judgment,  whatever  it  may  be,  expresses 
a  relation.^ 

From  these  four  cardinal  categories  four  rules  or  prin- 
ciples necessarily  follow,  which  are,  therefore,  also  a  priori :  ^ 

(1)  From  tlie  standpoint  of  quantity,  every  phenomenon, 
1  Kritik,  p.  79.  2  la.^  pp.  131  ff. 


KANT  447 

i.  e.,  eveiything  presented  by  the  intuitive  faculty  as  exist- 
ing in  space  and  in  time,  is  a  quantity,  i.  e.,  a  fixed  extent 
and  a  fixed  dui'ation.  Tliis  principle  excludes  the  hyjjoth- 
esis  of  atoms. 

(2)  From  the  standpoint  of  quality,  every  phenomenon 
has  a  certain  content,  a  certain  degree  of  intensity.  This 
principle  excludes  the  hypothesis  of  the  void. 

(3)  From  the  standpoint  of  relation,  all  phenomena  are 
united  by  the  tie  of  causality ;  which  excludes  the  hypoth- 
esis of  chafice ;  there  is,  moreover,  a  reciprocal  action 
between  the  effects  and  their  causes  ;  which  excludes  the 
idea  of  fatiim. 

(4)  From  the  standpoint  of  modality,  ever}'  phenomenon 
is  possible  that  conforms  to  the  laws  of  space  and  time, 
and  every  phenomenon  is  necessary.,  the  al)sence  of  which 
would  imply  the  suspension  of  these  laws;  which  excludes 
miracles. 

The  first  and  second  of  these  principles  constitute  the  law^ 
of  continuity  ;  the  third  and  fourth,  the  law  of  causality. 

These  categories  and  the  principles  which  follow  from 
them  form  the  inire.,  innate,  a  priori  element,  and,  as  it 
were,  the  patrimon}'  of  the  understanding  (^Vcrstand). 
Tlie  latter  does  not  receive  them  ;  it  draws  them  from  its 
ov.'ii  inner  nature  ;  it  docs  not  find  them  in  the  phenomenal 
world ;  it  imposes  them  upon  it.^  These  conclusions  of  the 
transcendental  logic  are  of  the  liigliest  importance.  But, 
before  we  develop  them,  we  must,  in  a  few  words,  cxi)lain 
what  Kant  means  by  the  schematism  of  pure  reason."^ 

The  analysis  of  the  faculty  of  knowledge  has  outlined 
the  boundaries  between  sensibility  and  the  intellect  (sen- 
sibility receives  the  impressions,  co-ordinates  tliciu,  aii-I 
makes  intuitions  of  them  ;  tlie  intellect  synthesizes  the  in- 
tuitions, i.  e.,  judges  and  reasons).  We  discriminated,  in 
sensibilit}-,  between  n  posteriori  intuitions  and  llie  a  priori 


448  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

intuitions  of  space  and  time  ;  in  tlie  understanding  we 
discovered  a  number  of  a  priori  concepts,  which  are  so 
many  compartments,  as  it  were,  in  which  reason  stores 
and  elaborates  the  products  of  experience.  But  though 
containino-  many  elements,  tlie  faculty  of  knowledge  is, 
nevertheless,  a  unity.  This  essential  unity  of  reason  in 
the  diversity  of  its  operations  is  the  ego,  the  feeling  or 
apperception  of  which  accompanies  all  intellectual  phe- 
nomena, and  constitutes  their  common  bond,  so  to  speak. 
Kant  is  not  satisfied  with  a  mere  analysis ;  not  only  does 
he  take  apart  the  knowledge-machine,  as  we  might  say, 
he  also  attempts  to  explain  how  it  works,  and  to  show 
how  the  parts  lit  into  each  other.  He,  therefore,  imagines 
the  categories  of  limitation,  reciprocity  or  concurrence,  and 
reality,  as  connecting  links  between  affirmation  and  nega- 
tion, substantiality  and  causality,  possibility  and  necessity  : 
fictions  Avhich  gave  rise  to  the  triads  of  Fichte  and  Hegel 
(thesis,  antithesis,  and  synthesis).  It  is  owing  to  the  same 
demand  for  synthesis  that  he  raises  the  question :  How  can 
reason  act  upon  the  data  of  sensibility ;  by  what  means,  by 
what  arm,  as  it  were,  does  it  lay  hold  of  sensible  intuitions 
and  make  notions  of  them? 

This  operation  is,  in  his  opinion,  effected  by  means  of 
the  idea  of  time,  the  natural  intermediary  between  intuitions 
and  concepts.  Though  time,  like  space,  belongs  to  the 
domain  of  sensible  things,  it  is  less  material  than  space, 
and  partakes  more  of  the  entirely  abstract  nature  of  the 
categories.  Owing  to  its  resemblance  to  the  categories, 
the  idea  of  time  serves  as  an  image  or  symbol  to  express 
the  a  priori  notions  in  terms  of  sense,  and  becomes  a  kind 
of  interpreter  between  the  intuitive  faculty  and  the  under- 
standing, which,  without  it,  cannot  assist  in  the  formation 
of  the  judgment. 

Considered  as  a  series  of  moments,  or  as  number,  time 
expresses  the  idea  of  quantity  :   The  image  of  universality 


KANT  449 

is  the  totality  of  moments  of  time ;  the  particular  is  ex- 
pressed by  a  certain  number  of  moments  ;  the  singular,  by 
one  moment.  The  content  of  time  symbolizes  the  idea  of 
quality  (reality  is  expressed  by  a  time  filled  with  events ; 
negation,  by  a  time  in  which  nothing  happens).  Time  like- 
wise symbolizes  the  idea  of  relation :  Permanence  in  time 
represents  the  idea  of  substance  ;  succession  of  moments, 
the  idea  of  cause  and  effect ;  simultaneity,  the  idea  of  reci- 
procity and  concurrence.  Finally,  time  is  the  image  of  the 
categories  of  modality :  That  which  corresponds  to  the  con- 
ditions of  time  is  possible  ;  that  which  exists  at  a  definite 
time  is  real  or  actual ;  that  which  is  eternal  is  necessary. 
Hence,  the  idea  of  time  serves  as  a  scheme  for  the  a  priori 
concepts  of  the  understanding ;  it  is  a  framework,  so  to 
speak,  of  the  ideal  constructions,  for  which  the  senses  fur- 
nish the  stones,  and  reason  the  mortar.  Reason  uses  the 
idea  of  time  as  an  interpreter  between  itself  and  sensibility ; 
and  this  operation  is  called,  in  the  pedantic  language  of 
criticism,  the  schematism  of  pure  reason. 

The  conclusion  of  the  critique  of  the  intellect  merely 
corroborates  the  sceptical  and  subjectivistic  results  of  the 
Transcendental  j^sthetic. 

The  critique  of  the  intuitive  faculty  has  demonstrated 
that  we  see  things  through  colored  glasses  (space  and  time), 
i.  e.,  otherwise  than  tliey  are  in  themselves.  The  examina- 
tion of  the  understanding  shows  that  Ave  communicate  with 
them  through  an  entire  system  of  glasses.  Sensibility  per- 
ceives them,  but  in  doing  this,  it  impresses  its  forms  upon 
them,  i.  e.,  it  transforms  them.  We  do  not  perceive  them 
as  they  are,  but  as  they  appear  to  us,  tliat  is,  as  we  make 
them.  When  we  perceive  them,  they  have  already  been 
stamp(;(l ;  indeed,  they  are  perceived  by  the  very  forms  in- 
hering in  sensil)ility  (si)afo  and  time)-  They  are  no  longer 
things;  tlicv  arc  notliing  ])iit  pheuomma.  Ilcnce  lli.'  plic- 
nomenon   may  Ijc  defined  as  tlic  thing  tiaiisforiiicd  l»y  tiio 

>'9 


450  MODERN  THILOSOPHY 

iiiould  of  the  intuitive  faculty.  What  constitutes  it  is,  on 
the  one  hand,  the  thing  which  impresses  the  senses,  but 
above  everytliing  else,  the  sensibility  itself,  or  reason  in  the 
broad  sense  of  the  term :  it  is  ourselves ;  it  is  the  /,  the 
perceiving  and  thinking  subject,  that  makes  the  j^he^iomenon. 
The  phenomenon  is  the  product  of  reason ;  it  does  not  exist 
outside  of  us,  but  in  us  ;  it  does  not  exist  beyond  the  limits 
of  intuitive  reason.^ 

Now,  while  the  Esthetic  brings  us  to  the  threshold  of  sub- 
jective idealism,  the  Transcendental  Logic  carries  us  right 
into  it,  in  spite  of  Kant's  protests  against  our  confounding 
him  with  Berkeley.  Not  only,  he  tells  us,  does  reason,  as 
an  intuition,  constitute,  produce,  or  create  the  phenomenon, 
but  reason,  in  the  form  of  the  understanding,  also  de- 
termines the  reciprocal  relations  of  sensible  phenomena. 
Reason  makes  them  a  priori  quantities,  qualities,  causes, 
and  effects,  and  thus  impresses  upon  them  the  seal  of  its 
legislative  power ;  it  is  tln^ough  reason  that  the  tilings 
become  quantities,  qualities,  effects,  and  causes,  which  the}'' 
are  not  in  themselves.  Hence  we  may  say  without  exag- 
geration that  it  is  reason  ivhich  prescribes  its  laws  to  the  seti- 
sible  universe ;  it  is  reason  which  makes  the  cosmos. 

Such  are  Kant's  own  words,^  and  we  emphasize  these 
memorable  theses  because  they  form  the  immediate  basis  of 
the  systems  of  Fichte,  Schelling,  and  Hegel.  And  yet  the 
latter  are  called  the  apostates  of  criticism,  whom  Kant 
himself  repudiates  !  Nevertheless,  the  man  who  said  that 
reason,  —  and  human  reason,  nota  bene,  —  prescribes  its 
laws  to  the  universe,  is  the  father  of  Hegelian  panlogism. 
But,  we  must  add,  he  is  so,  in  spite  of  himself  ;  the  bent  of  his 
philosophy  is  essentially  different  from  that  of  his  successors. 
Instead  of  deifjdng  the  human  understanding,  he  claims 
to  limit  it,  —  to  force  the  overflowing  river  into  its  natural 

1  Kritik,  p.  389  ;  Prolegomena,  pp.  44,  51. 
^  Prolegomena,  p.  85. 


KANT  451 

channel,  the  phenomenal  world,  and  to  exclude  forever  the 
sphere  of  the  absolute.  When  Kant  says  that  reason  creates 
the  universe,  or  at  least  assists  in  its  creation,  he  means  the 
phenomenal  universe,  the  totality  of  phenomena,  and  he 
very  candidly  admits  that  there  may  be,  beyond  the  phe- 
nomenal world,  a  world  of  noumena  or  realities  which 
cannot  be  perceived,  which  are  inaccessible  and  conse- 
quently superior  to  reason.^  Kant  is  far  from  being  a  pan- 
logist  in  the  Hegelian  sense  of  the  term ;  nay,  the  very 
object  of  the  entire  second  part  of  his  critique  of  the  under- 
standing, the  Transcendental  Dialectic,  is  to  demonstrate 
the  incompetence  of  theoretical  reason  beyond  the  domain 
of  experience,  and  the  futility  of  metaphysics  considered  as 
the  science  of  the  absolute. 

B.    Transcendental  Dialectic  ^ 

From  the  faculty  of  judgment  ( VerstancT)  Kant  dis- 
tinguishes that  of  embracing  the  totality  of  our  judgments 
under  certain  general  points  of  view,  which  he  calls  Ideas. 
This  faculty,  the  highest  of  all  in  the  intellectual  sphere, 
is  reason  in  the  narrow  sense  of  the  term,  the  voik  of  the 
ancients.  The  concepts  of  "  reason,"  or  Ideas,^  are :  the 
thing-iii-itself^  or  the  absolute^  the  universe,  the  soul,  and 
God.  Their  function  is  similar  to  that  of  the  a  priori 
intuitions  (space  and  time),  and  that  of  the  categories. 
Just  as  the  former  arrange  the  impressions  of  sense,  and 
the  latter,  the  intuitions,  so  the  Ideas  arrange  tlie  infinite 
mass  of  judgments  and  reduce  them  to  a  system.  Hence 
"reason,"  which  fasliions  them,  is  the  higlicst  synthetic 
faculty,  the  systematic  and  scientilic  faculty.     Thus,  from 

^  The  absolute  rationalism  of  his  successors,  on  the  other  hand, 
does  not  admit  any  kiml  of  transcendency. 

«  Krilik,  pp.  238  ff. 

•  The  term  is  deriveil  from  Platonism,  liut  Uh'  Mi  as  of  Kant  aro 
not,  like  those  of  Plato,  realities  existing  ai)arL  from  oiir  tliought. 


452  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

the  co-operation  of  sensibility,  judgment,  and  "  reason " 
arise  the  sciences.  For  example  :  The  outer  sense,  by 
means  of  its  a  priori  intuitions  of  space  and  time,  furnishes 
us  with  a  series  of  phenomena  ;  tlie  understanding,  witli  tlie 
help  of  its  categories,  makes  concepts,  judgments,  and 
scientitic  propositions  of  tliem  ;  finally,  "  reason  "  embraces 
these  disjecta  membra  under  the  Idea  of  the  cosmos,  and 
makes  a  science  of  tliem.  So,  too,  the  inner  sense  furnishes 
us  with  a  series  of  facts  ;  the  understanding  makes  con- 
cepts of  them ;  and  "  reason  "  combines  these  concepts  into 
the  Idea  of  the  soul,  and  produces  the  science  of  psychology. 
By  viewing  the  totality  of  phenomena  from  the  standpoint 
of  the  absolute  or  of  God,  reason  creates  tlieoloiju. 

Tlie  "Ideas"  and  "reason,"  as  a  separate  facidty  of 
the  understanding,  seem  to  be  superfluities  in  the  Kantian 
system.  The  Idea  of  the  cosmos  is  nothing  but  the  cate- 
gory of  totality  ;  the  Idea  of  the  soul  and  the  Idea  of  God 
are  the  categories  of  substance  and  cause,  applied  to  inner 
facts  (soul)  and  to  tlie  sum-total  of  phenomena  (God). 
"  Reason,"  consequently,  is  not  a  faculty  distinct  from  the 
understanding ;  it  is  merely  its  complete  develo})ment. 
But  we  shall  not  insist  on  this  critical  detail.  Let  us 
rather  hasten  to  discuss  the  most  important  topic  of  the 
Dialectic :  the  doctrine  of  the  a-priority  of  the  Ideas.^ 

Just  as  space  and  time  are  not  perceived  objects,  but 
modes  of  perceiving  objects;  just  as  the  categories  of  quan- 
tity, quality,  and  relation  are  means^  not  objects,  of  knowl- 
edge, so,  too,  the  universe,  the  soul,  and  God  are  a  priori 
syntheses  of  reason  and  not  l^eings  existing  independently 
of  the  thinking  subject.  At  least,  it  is  impossible  for  rea- 
son to  demonstrate  their  objective  existence.  Reason,  as 
Kant  insists,  really  knows  nothing  but  phenomena,  and 
receives  the  matter  of  all  its  operations  from  sensibility 
alone.  Now  the  universe,  as  absolute  totality,  the  soul,  and 
1  Kritik,  pp.  252  ff. 


KANT  453 

God  are  not  phenomena ;  the  Ideas  —  in  this,  sa3'S  Kant, 
they  differ  from  the  categories  —  do  not  receive  any  con- 
tent from  sensibility ;  they  are  supreme  norms,  reguLative 
points  of  view,  no  more,  no  less.  Old  metaphysics  erred  in 
regarding  them  as  anything  else. 

Dogmatism  deludes  itself  when  it  claims  to  know  the 
absolute.  It  resembles  the  cliild  that  sees  the  sky  touching 
the  horizon,  and  imagines  that  it  can  reach  the  sky  by  mov- 
ing towards  the  seeming  line  of  intersection.  The  sky  is 
the  thing-in-itself,  the  absolute,  which  hy  a  kind  of  optical 
illusion,  seems  to  us  to  be  an  object  that  can  be  studied 
and  experienced ;  the  horizon,  which  recedes  as  the  child 
advances,  is  experience,  which  seems  to  attain  the  absolute, 
and  which,  in  reality,  cannot  approach  it ;  the  child  itself 
is  the  dogmatic  metaph^'sician.  Let  us  say,  to  be  just,  that 
the  illusion  is  common  to  all  intellects,  just  as  the  illusion 
that  the  heaven  bounds  the  earth  is  shared  by  all.  But 
there  is  this  difference  between  the  dogmatic  philosopher 
and  the  critical  philosopher.  The  former,  like  the  child, 
is  the  dupe  of  his  illusion,  while  the  latter  explains  it  and 
takes  it  for  what  it  is  worth.  Kant  might  have  summed 
up  his  entire  critique  as  follows  :  Kno\\ledge  is  relative ; 
a  known  absolute  signifies  a  relative  absolute ;  which  is 
contradictory. 

What  is  true  of  traditional  ontology  is  true  of  psychology, 
cosmology,  and  theology. 

Rational  psychology,  as  Descartes,  Leibniz,  and  A\'(>lff 
conceived  it,  rests  on  a  paralogism.^  '•  I  tliiiik,"  says  Des- 
cartes, "  therefore  T  am  "  —  and  mentally  adds  :  a  substance. 
Now,  tliat  is  just  what  he  has  no  riglit  to  do.  7  tJil7iky 
means:  I  am  tin-  loL^ical  sul)jectof  my  tlmiiLjlit.  Uutliave  I 
the  riglit  to  infer  fiom  this  that  I  am  a  suh'Stancc  in  the 
sense  whicli  Cartesian  metaphysics  attai-hcs  to  tlic  term? 
A  logical  subject  is  one  tiling,  a  metaphysical  subject  m 
'  Krid/c,  [(p.  '21o  IT. 


454  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

(luite  another.  When  I  express  the  judgment :  The  earth 
is  a  planet,  the  logical  subject  of  this  proposition  is  the  ego 
that  formulates  it;  while  the  earth  is  the  real  subject. 
The  celebrated  thesis  of  Descartes  is  a  paralogism,  because 
it  confuses  the  /,  the  logical  subject,  with  the  /,  the  real 
subject.  Metaphysically,  I  do  not  know  the  ego,  and  I 
shall  never  know  it,  except  as  the  logical  subject,  as  an  Idea^ 
inseparable  from  my  judgments,  as  the  premise  and  neces- 
sary concomitant  of  all  my  intellectual  operations.  I  shall 
never  know  more.  As  soon  as  I  make  a  substance  of  it,  I 
make  it  the  object  of  a  judgment,  which  is,  according  to 
Kant,  as  absurd  as  though  I  pretended  to  see  space  and 
time.  Space  and  time  are  a  priori  ideas  which  serve  as  a 
framework  for  sensible  ideas,  without  being  objects  of  the 
senses  themselves.  So,  too,  the  cogito  is  an  a  priori  judg- 
ment, preceding  all  other  judgments  as  a  conditio  sine  qua 
non,  without,  however,  in  any  way  anticipating  the  nature 
of  the  ego.  I  cannot  judge  metaphysically  concerning  the 
ego,  because  it  is  I  who  am  judging :  one  cannot  be  both 
judge  and  litigant,  as  they  say  in  law  ;  or  subject  of  the  dis- 
course and  the  real  subject,  as  they  say  in  logic. 

If  it  is  not  possible  to  prove  that  the  ego  exists  as  a  sub- 
stance, the  doctrines  of  the  simplicity,  immateriality,  and 
immortality  of  the  human  soul  cannot  stand. 

From  the  existence  of  simple  ideas  it  does  not  necessarily 
follow  that  the  soul  is  a  simple  substance,  for  there  are 
also  collective  ideas.  To  conclude  from  the  simplicity  of 
ideas  the  simplicity  of  the  "spiritual  substance"  would 
be  equivalent  to  inferring  the  simplicity  of  the  cosmical 
substance  from  the  simplicity  of  weight,  or  the  unity  of 
motive  force  from  the  simplicity  of  what  mechanics  calls 
the  resultant. 

Suppose,  however,  the  soul  were  a  simple  substance  ; 
simplicity  is  not  immortality.  We  must  remember  that, 
from  Kant's  point  of  view,  bodies  are  i^henomena,  i.  e.,  facts 


KANT  455 

produced  by  sensibilit}^,  the  sensible  subject  or  the  ego, 
with  the  co-operation  of  an  absolutely  unknown  cause.  The 
phenomenon  —  we  must  always  return  to  this  fundamental 
thesis  of  criticism  —  the  phenomenon  is  nothing  external  to 
the  sensible  subject ;  heat,  light,  and  color,  althougli  called 
forth  by  an  external,  wholly  mysterious,  solicitation,  are 
products  of  sensibility,  inner  facts,  —  in  short,  ideas. 

Kant,  it  is  true,  seeks  to  draw  a  line  of  demarcation  be- 
tween the  phenomenon  and  the  intuition  or  idea,  between 
what  happens  at  the  boundary  of  the  ego  and  the  non-ego, 
and  what  is  entirely  subjective  ;  but  with  indifferent  success. 
The  phenomenon  takes  place  in  us  and  is  consequently 
identical  with  the  idea.  Hence,  in  so  far  as  they  are  phe- 
nomena, bodies  are  ideas.  Why,  then,  should  not  the  bodies, 
on  the  one  hand,  and  the  intuitions  properly  so-called,  the 
categories,  and  the  judgments,  on  the  other,  have  a  common 
substance  ?  Why  should  not  that  which  we  call  matter  be 
an  immaterial  thing,  and  what  we  call  mind  or  soul,  be  a 
material  thing  ?  ^ 

Immortality,  therefore,  likewise  ceases  to  be  a  self-evident 
doctrine.  According  to  the  supporters  of  this  dogma,  the 
soul  is  not  only  an  indestructible  substance,  but  preserves, 
in  death,  the  consciousness  of  self.  Now,  we  discover,  in 
inner  perception,  infinite  degrees  of  intensity,  and  may 
conceive  a  descenchng  scale  tliat  cuhuinates  in  complete 
destruction. 

By  showing  us  tlie  possibility  of  what  dogmatism  had 
])r(!viously  aflinncil  in    Sjiino/.a,  vi/.,  tlic  identity  of  spirit- 

1  A'riVfVr,  first  edition,  J).  l.'8S  :  So  kmnle  dur/i  wold  (hixjenigc  Klirns, 
welches  (Ip.u  dusxpren  Ersrlieiiiurif/m  zum  Gruu/ltj  lie;//,  tiuis  unscrn  Sinn  so 
afficirl,  ilass  er  die  Vorxlellniuien  von  lionin,  ^[(llf^t•i^\  firslall,  etc.,  JickommL, 
dieses  Elintx  .  .  .  kihinle  dock  auch  zufjlcirh  dns  Subject  der  Grdanken 
sein.  .  .  .  Dcinnoch  ist  selhst  durch  die  einf/erdnmte  Einfnchheit  der  Nntur 
die  mensrhlirhe  Seele  von  der  Matprie,  innun  vian  sic  (wie  mnn  soil)  hlos 
als  Erscheinunfj  bclrarlitet  in  Ansehung  des  Substrali  dcrselben  gar  nichl 
hinreichend  unterschieden- 


456  MODERN  rillLOSOPHY 

ual  substance  and  material  substance,  criticism  does  away 
witli  the  hypotheses  of  injluxus,  divine  assistance,  and  pre- 
established  harmony.  These  theories  lose  their  raison  d'etre 
as  soon  as  it  is  proved  that  the  ''  substances  "  of  Descartes 
and  the  "  monads  "  of  Leibniz  are  nothing  but  phenomena, 
derived,  perhaps^  from  a  common  source.  The  problem  is  no 
longer  to  explain  the  reciprocal  action  of  soul  and  body,  but 
to  ascertain  how  the  same  reason,  the  same  ego,  can  produce 
phenomena  as  diametrically  opposed  as  material  facts  and 
intellectual  facts,  extension  and  thought.  In  this  new 
form,  the  question  retains  all  its  importance  and  mj^sterious 
fascination  for  Kant.  He  touched  upon  it,  as  we  saw,  in 
connection  with  the  idea  of  time  and  its  function  as  an 
intermediary  between  tlie  intuitions  and  the  categories,  but 
he  could  not  penetrate  more  deeply  into  the  subject  without 
contradicting  his  premises.  To  attempt  to  solve  it  meant 
to  state  what  sensibility  is  in  itself,  what  the  understanding 
is  in  itself;  it  meant  to  make  the  tliing-in-itself  an  object  of 
metaphysical  knowledge. 

After  overthrowing  rational  psychology,  Kant  undertakes 
to  demolish  rational  cosmology  in  the  Wolffian  sense.^  In- 
stead of  confining  itself  to  the  domain  of  experience,  this 
alleged  science  makes  an  Idea,  the  cosmos,  the  object  of  its 
speculations.  When  it  considers  this  Idea  from  the  stand- 
point of  quantity,  quality,  relation,  and  modality,  it  neces- 
sarily becomes  involved  in  antinomies.  Antinomies  are 
theories  which  contradict  each  other,  each  one,  at  the  same 
time,  being  as  capable  of  demonstration  as  the  other. 

ANTINOMY   OF   QUANTITY 

We  can  demonstrate,  with  the  same  show  of  reason,  that 
the  universe  is  a  limited  quantity,  and  that  it  is  unlimited 
in  space  and  time,  i.  e.,  infinite  and  eternal. 

1  Kritik;  pp.  325  ff. 


KANT  457 

(1)  The  miiverse  is  Ibnited  in  time  and  in  sjyace.  Let 
us  assume,  for  the  sake  of  argument,  that  it  is  uot.  The 
universe,  as  a  whole,  is  composed  of  parts  which  exist  sim- 
ultaneously. Now,  I  cannot  conceive  it  as  a  whole  except 
by  a  mental  addition,  a  successive  synthesis  of  its  parts. 
But,  by  hypothesis,  these  parts  are  infinite  in  number. 
Hence  their  successive  addition  requires  an  infinite  time. 
Consequent!}',  the  idea  of  the  universe,  the  result  of  this 
addition,  presupposes  that  an  infinite  time  has  elapsed  to 
form  it.  But  elapsed  time  is  not  infinite  time.  To  reach 
a  sum,  the  number  of  parts  to  be  added  must  be  limited : 
we  cannot  add  an  infinite  number  of  parts.  Now,  the  idea 
of  the  universe  is  a  synthesis,  the  result  of  an  addition. 
Hence,  the  universe  has  a  limited  extent  (Aristotle).  Let 
us  likewise  assume  that  it  has  no  limit  in  time,  that  it  has 
no  beginning.  On  this  hypothesis,  an  infinite  number  of 
moments  have  elapsed  up  to  a  given  time.  But  an  infinite 
lapse  (i.  e.,  finitude)  of  time  is  a  contradiction  in  terms. 
The  universe,  therefore,  is  limited  in  space  and  in  time 
(Plato). 

(2)  The  universe  is  unlimited  in  space  and  in  time. 
Otherwise,  there  would  be,  beyond  its  limits,  an  infinite 
space  (for  the  idea  of  space  does  not  admit  of  liinit-^); 
hence  there  would  be  space  by  the  side  of  things,  and  we 
might  speak  of  a  relation  between  the  universe  and  the 
inliidte  space  surrounding  it,  i.  e.,  of  a  relation  between 
objects  and  something  whicli  is  not  an  object;  for  we  now 
know  that  space  is  not  an  ol)jc'Ct.  But  a  ivlation  l)etween 
an  object  and  something  tliat  is  not  an  object  is  impos- 
sible; a  relation  may  obtain  between  tilings  in  space;  there 
can  be  none  })et\veen  things  and  the  space  in  wliicli  tlicv 
exist.  Hence  the  universe  is  unlimited.  —  If  it  liad  had  a 
beginning,  it  would  have  been  precedcil  hy  lime  without 
content,  i.  e.,  by  nothing,  for  time  without  content  is  equal 
to  nothing.  Now  ex  nihilo  niliil.  Hence  tlie  univei"se  is 
eternal  (Parmcnidcs,  Aristotle). 


458  MODERN  PHILOSOrHY 

ANTINOMY   OF   QUALITY 

Considered  from  the  standpoint  of  quality  (i.  e.,  of  its 
inner  nature),  is  cosmical  matter  composed  of  atoms  or 
elements  which  are,  in  turn,  composite  ?  Both  the  thesis 
and  the  antithesis  may  be  proved  with  equally  cogent 
reasons. 

Thesis :  Matter  is  composed  of  simple  elements,  or  atoms. 
Let  us  assume  that  the  opposite  theory  is  true,  and  that 
matter  is  composed  of  parts,  in  turn  composed  of  parts 
divisible  into  parts,  and  so  on  to  infinity.  If,  in  this 
hypothesis,  we  abstract  from  the  idea  of  composition  and 
decomposition,  nothing  whatever  is  left ;  now,  out  of  noth- 
ing nothing  can  be  composed.  Every  composite  thing  pre- 
supposes simple  constitutive  elements.  Hence,  matter  is 
composed  of  intUvisible  elementaiy  substances,  monads,  or 
atoms. 

The  antithesis,  according  to  which  matter  is  infinitely 
divisible,  is  equally  easy  of  proof.  In  so  far  as  the  as- 
sumed atoms  are  material,  they  are  extended.  Now,  that 
which  is  extended  is  divisible.  Inextended  particles  are 
no  longer  matter.  Hence,  there  are  no  simple  material 
elements. 

ANTIKOIMY   OF   RELATION 

Does  the  universe,  considered  as  an  order  of  things,  em- 
brace free  causes,  or  is  it  governed,  without  exception,  by 
necessity?  Metaphysicians  have  demonstrated  both  the 
thesis  and  the  antithesis. 

The  thesis,  which  affirms  that  there  are  free  causes,  is 
proved  as  follows  :  Let  us  suppose  that  all  things  are  con- 
nected with  each  other  by  a  necessary  nexus.  If,  on  this 
hypothesis,  we  desire  to  pass  from  an  effect  to  its  first 
cause,  it  will  be  found  that  this  first  cause  does  not  exist, 
or  at  least  that  the  cause  which  seems  to  be  the  first  is  not 
really  the  fii'st,  but  merely  a  link  in  the  infinite  chain  of 


KANT  459 

events.  Now,  according  to  the  principle  of  sufiicient 
reason,  in  order  that  an  event  be  produced,  all  the  causes 
necessary  to  its  production  must  exist,  and  all  the  con- 
ditions which  it  presupposes  must  be  satisfied.  If  one  of 
these  conditions  is  absent,  the  event  cannot  be  produced. 
But,  on  the  hypothesis  of  an  inlinite  chain,  there  is  no  first 
cause  or  concUtion  of  a  given  event.  If  this  cause  is  lack- 
ing, the  occurrence  cannot  take  place.  Now,  it  does  take 
place ;  hence,  there  is  a  first  cause,  that  is,  a  cause  that  is 
not  again  the  necessarily  predetermined  effect  of  a  previ- 
ous cause,  or,  finally,  a  free  cause.  Hence,  there  are  in 
the  world,  besides  necessary  occurrences,  free  occurrences 
and  free  causes. 

According  to  the  antithesis,  everything  is  necessary  con- 
nection, and  liberty  is  merely  an  illusion.  Let  us  assume 
a  free  cause.  This  cause  necessarily  exists  prior  to  its 
effects,  and,  moreover,  it  pre-exists  in  a  different  state  from 
tliat  which  it  assumes  when  the  effect  is  produced ;  first,  it 
exists  as  a  virgin,  then,  when  tlie  effect  is  produced,  as  a 
mother,  so  to  speak.  Thus  we  have,  in  the  cause  in  ques- 
tion, two  successive  states  without  a  causal  tie,  which  is 
contrary  to  the  principle  recognized  by  the  criticpie,  that 
every  phenomenon  is  an  effect.  Hence,  liberty  in  the  in- 
deterministic  sense  is  impossible. 

ANTnsro^SIY   OF   ISIODALITY 

According  to  the  thesis,  there  exists  either  in  the  icorld  or 
beyond  il,  a  necessary  bein//,  an  absolute  citiisc  of  thr  viii- 
verse.  The  demonstration  is  similar  to  the  jirool' of  tin- 
existence  of  frec!  causes.  Tlie  world  is  a  series  of  effects. 
Each  effect,  to  l)e  produced,  presupposes  a  determined 
series  of  causes  or  eoiidilioiis,  and,  eouse(|ueutly,  a  lirst 
cause  or  coiidilioii,  an  existence  that  is  no  longer  contin- 
ge-nt  but  necessary. 


460  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

According  to  the  antithesis,  there  is  no  necessary  heing^ 
either  in  the  universe  as  an  integral  part  of  the  cosmos,  or 
beyond  it,  as  the  cause  of  the  'world. 

Now,  if  there  is,  in  the  world  and  as  part  of  it,  some- 
thing necessary,  this  can  only  be  conceived  in  two  ways : 
(1)  it  exists  at  the  beginning  of  the  world ;  or  (2)  it  coin- 
cides with  the  whole  series  of  phenomena  constituting  it. 
Now,  every  beginning  is  a  moment  of  time.  Hence,  an 
absolute  beginning  would  be  a  moment  of  time  without  a 
preceding  moment ;  which  is  inconceivable,  for  the  idea  of 
time  admits  of  no  limits.  Hence,  there  is  no  necessary 
being  at  the  origin  of  things.  But  it  is  also  incorrect  to  say 
with  Spinoza  and  the  pantheists,  that  the  whole  of  things 
and  the  totality  of  the  moments  of  time,  i.  e.,  the  universe, 
is  necessary  and  absolute  being.  For,  however  immeasur- 
able it  may  be,  a  totality  of  relative  and  contingent  beings 
will  no  more  constitute  an  absolute  and  necessary  being 
than  a  hundred  thousand  idiots  will  constitute  one  in- 
telligent man.  Hence,  there  is  nothing  necessary  m  the 
world. 

Nor  is  there  anything  necessary  beyond  the  universe. 
For  if  the  necessary  being  exists  outside  of  the  world,  it 
exists  outside  of  time  and  space.  Now  it  is,  by  hypothe- 
sis, the  principle,  the  source,  the  beginning  of  things.  As 
their  beginning,  it  constitutes  a  moment  of  time.  But  it 
is  outside  of  time.  That  is  to  say,  the  necessary  being 
cannot  be  conceived  either  in  the  form  of  immanency  or  in 
that  of  transcendency. 

The  fourth  antinomy  is  not  so  much  concerned  with  cos- 
mology as  with  rational  theology,  the  futility  of  which  it 
shows  in  advance.  Nevertheless,  Kant  devotes  eighty- 
eight  pages  to  the  critique  of  the  theodicy  and  the  proofs 
of  the  existence  of  God.^ 

1  Kritik,  pp.  456  if. 


KANT  461 

The  ontological  proof  (Anselm,  Descartes)  concludes 
from  the  idea  of  God  the  objective  existence  of  a  supreme 
being,  and  has  no  more  value  than  the  following  reason- 
ing of  a  poor  man :  I  have  the  idea  of  a  hundred  thalers, 
hence  these  huncbed  thalers  exist — in  my  purse.  This 
is  the  same  objection  which  Gaunilo  of  Marmoutiers  had 
urged  against  St.  Anselm. 

The  cosmological  argument  (a  contingentia  mundi)  falsely 
assumes  that  there  can  be  no  infinite  series  of  causes  and 
effects  without  a  first  cause. ^  By  connecting  the  series  of 
contingent  things  with  a  first  and  necessary  cause,  it  ima- 
nnes  that  it  closes  the  series,  while,  in  realitv,  there  still 
remains,  between  this  alleged  first  cause  and  the  following 
t-ause,  the  yawning  chasm  which  separates  the  necessary 
from  the  contingent,  and  the  absolute  from  the  relative. 
But  even  granting  the  cogency  of  the  proof,  it  would  not 
follow  that  the  necessaiy  being,  whose  existence  it  claims 
to  establish,  is  the  personal  being  which  theology  calls  God. 

The  teleological  or  physico-theological  proof  infers  from 
the  finality  revealed  in  nature  the  existence  of  an  intel- 
ligent creator.  This  argument  has  the  advantage  that  it 
makes  a  deep  impression  on  the  mind,  and  the  preacher 
is  free  to  use  it  in  preference  to  all  other  reasonings.  But 
from  the  scientific  point  of  view  it  has  no  value  ;  for  (1)  it 
passes  from  sensible  data  to  something  tliat  does  not  fall 
within  tlie  scope  of  the  senses;  (2)  it  professes  to  estab- 
lish the  existence  of  a  God  who  is  the  creator  of  matter; 
(•S)  with  what  right,  moreover,  does  it  compare  the  universe 
to  a  clock  or  a  house  ?  Is  the  worhl  necessarily  a  tvork 
presupposing  a  workman  ?  Why,  instead  of  being  a  macliine 
begun  at  a  given  time,  could  it  not  l)e  an  eternal  reality? 
(4)  Besides,  what  is  finality?  Is  it  inlierent  in  tlie  things 
themselves  ?  or  is  not  rather  our  own  caprice  which  confers 

*  Sfic  tlif  f(»urfli  aiitiiioiny. 


462  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

upon  them  their  teleological  character,  according  as  they 
please  us  or  displease  us  (Spinoza)  ? 

The  moral  proof,  which  is  based  on  the  purposiveness  in 
the  moral  order,  on  the  existence  of  the  moral  law,  on  the 
phenomenon  of  moral  conscience  and  the  feeling  of  responsi- 
bility, is  peremptory  from  the  standpoint  of  practical  rea- 
son, but  from  the  standpoint  of  pure  theory  it  shares  the 
weakness  of  the  teleological  proof,  of  whicli  it  is,  at  bottom, 
merely  a  variation.^ 

In  short,  the  critique  of  the  faculty  of  knowledge  does 
not  culminate  in  atheism,  but  neither  does  it  lead  to  theism ; 
it  does  not  lead  to  materialism,  nor  does  it  infer  the  spirit- 
uality of  the  soul  and  freedom ;  that  is  co  say,  its  last  word 
is  the  iiroxv  in  matters  of  metaphysics.  Enclosed  within 
the  magic  circle  of  our  intuitions,  our  concepts,  our  a  priuri 
Ideas,  we  perceive,  we  judge,  we  know,  but  we  know 
phenomena  merely,  i.  e.,  relations  existing  between  an 
object  absolutely  unknown  in  itself  and  a  thinking  subject, 
which  Ave  know  only  by  its  phenomena,  and  whose  essence 
is  shrouded  in  eternal  mystery.  What  we  call  the  world 
is  not  the  world  in  itself ;  it  is  the  world  remodelled  and 
transformed  by  sensibility  and  thought ;  it  is  the  result  of 
the  combined  functions  of  our  intellectual  faculties  and  a 
something,  we  know  not  what,  which  arouses  them  ;  it  is  the 
relation  of  two  unknowns,  the  hypothesis  of  an  hypothesis, 
the  "  dream  of  a  dream." 

II.     Critique  of  Practical  Reason  2 

Although  the  Critique  of  Pure  Reason  reduces  us  to  a 
scepticism  which  is  all  the  more  absolute  because  it  is  rea- 

1  The  critique  of  monotheism,  polytheism,  and  pantheism,  is  the 
same  as  that  of  theism.  Theism  erroneously  subsumes  an  Idea  of 
reason  under  a  category,  being ;  the  error  of  monotheism,  polytheism^ 
and  pantheism  consists  in  applying  to  the  same  Idea  the  categories 
of  quantity  :  unity,  plurality,  and  totality. 

2  [H.  Cohen,  Kant's  Begriindwig  dcr  Ethik,  Berlin,  1877;  E.  Zeller, 


KANT  463 

soned,  proved,  scientifically  established,  and  legitimized, 
it  would  be  a  grave  mistake  to  consider  the  sage  of  Koeu- 
igsberg  as  a  sceptic  in  the  traditional  sense,  and  to  impute 
to  liim  a  weakness  for  the  materialism  of  his  age.  Scepti- 
cism is  the  upshot  of  the  Critique  of  Pure  Reason  ;  it  is 
not,  however,  the  ultimatum  of  Kantianism.  To  assert  the 
contrary  is  completel}^  to  misunderstand  the  spirit  of  the 
philosophy  of  Kant  and  the  linal  purpose  of  his  critique. 
This  is  by  no  means  hostile  to  the  moral  faith  and  its  tran- 
scendent object,  but  wholly  in  its  favor.  It  is,  undoubtedly, 
not  Kant's  intention  to  "  humiliate  "  reason,  as  Tertullian 
and  Pascal  had  desired  to  do,  but  to  assign  to  it  its  proper 
place  among  all  our  faculties,  its  true  role  in  the  compli- 
cated play  of  our  spiritual  life.  Now,  this  place  is,  accoi-d- 
ing  to  Kant,  a  subordinate  one ;  this  function  is  regulntive 
and  modifying,  not  constitutive  and  creative.  The  Will, 
and  not  reason,  forms  the  basis  of  our  faculties  and  of 
things  :  that  is  the  leading  thought  of  Kantian  philosoph3^ 
While  reason  becomes  entangled  in  inevitable  antinomies 
and  involves  us  in  doubts,  the  will  is  the  ally  of  faith,  the 
source,  and,  therefore,  the  natural  guardian  of  our  moral 
and  religious  beliefs.  Observe  that  Kant  in  no  wise  denies 
the  existence  of  the  thing-in-itself,  of  the  soul,  and  of  God, 
but  only  the  possibility  of  proving  the  I'eality  of  these  Ideas, 
by  means  of  reasoning.  True,  he  combats  s])iritualistic 
dogmatism,  but  the  same  blow  that  brings  it  down  over- 
throws materialism ;  and  though  he  attacks  theism,  he  like- 
wise demolishes  the  dogmatic  pretensions  of  the  atheists. 
Wliat  he  combats  to  the  utmost  and  pitilessly  destroys  is 
the  dogmatism  of  theoretical  reason,  under  whatever  form 

Ueber  dus  Kanlisclie  ^for(l/p|■lncip,  Berlin,  ISSO ;  J.  G.  Scluinuaii, 
Kantian  Elhics  and  the  Ethics  of  Erolulion,  London,  1881  ;  N.  rortcr, 
Kant's  Ethics,  Cliicago,  IHHf! ;  V.  VV.  Fiirstor,  Der  Eiilirirlrlunf/sf/diuj  <lcr 
Kantischcn  Ethik,  etc.,  Berlin,  \Hi\  ;  Tiinjer,  Die  Relif/ionslehre  Kant's, 
Jena,  1>^71   —  Ti:.]. 


464  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

it  may  present  itself,  whether  as  theism  or  atheism,  spirit- 
ualism or  materialism ;  is  its  assumption  of  authority  in  the 
system  of  our  faculties ;  is  the  prejudice  which  attributes 
metaphysical  capacity  to  the  understanding,  isolated  from 
the  ivill  and  depending  on  its  oivn  resources.  By  way  of 
retaliation  —  and  here  he  reveals  the  dex:)th  of  his  philo- 
sophic faith  —  he  concedes  a  certain  metaphysical  capacity 
to  practical  reason^  i.  e.,  to  ivill. 

Like  the  understantUng,  the  will  has  its  own  character, 
its  original  forms,  its  particular  legislation,  a  legislation 
which  Kant  calls  "  practical  reason."  In  tliis  new  domain, 
the  problems  raised  by  the  Critique  of  Pure  Reason  change 
in  aspect ;  doubts  are  dissipated,  and  uncertainties  give  way 
to  practical  certainty.  The  moral  law  differs  essentially 
from  physical  law,  as  conceived  by  theoretical  reason. 
Physical  law  is  irresistible  and  inexorable ;  the  moral 
law  does  not  compel,  but  bind ;  hence  it  implies  freedom. 
Though  freedom  cannot  be  proved  theoretically,  it  is  not  in 
the  least  doubtful  to  the  will :  it  is  a  j^ostulate  of  practical 
reason,  an  immediate  fact  of  the  moral  consciousness. ^ 

Here  arises  one  of  the  great  difficulties  with  which 
philosophy  is  confronted :  How  can  we  reconcile  the  pos- 
tulate of  practical  reason  with  the  axiom  of  pure  reason 
that  every  occurrence  in  the  phenomenal  order  is  a  neces- 
sary effect,  that  the  phenomenal  world  is  governed  by  an 
absolute  determinism?  Kant,  whose  belief  in  free-will  is 
no  less  ardent  than  his  love  of  truth,  cannot  admit  an  abso- 
lute incompatibilit}^  between  natural  necessity  and  moral 
libert}^  The  conflict  of  reason  and  conscience,  regarding 
freedom,  can  only  be  a  seeming  one ;  it  must  be  possible  to 
resolve  the  antinomy  without  violating  the  rights  of  the 
intelliofence  or  those  of  the  will. 

The  solution  would,  undoubtedly,  be  impossible,  if  the 

^  Zitr  Griindlegung  der  Melaphysik  der  Sitten,  p.  80 ;  Kritik  der 
praklischen  Vernunft,  p.  274. 


KANT  465 

Critique  of  Pure  Reason  absolutely  denied  liberty,  but  the 
fact  is,  it  excludes  freedom  from  the  phenomenal  sphere 
only,  and  not  from  the  intelligible  and  transcendent  world, 
which  exists  behind  the  phenomenon,  though  it  is  unknow- 
able. Theoretical  reason  declares  :  Freedom,  though  im- 
possible in  the  phenomenal  world,  is  possible  in  the  absolute 
order ;  it  is  conceived  as  a  noumenon ;  it  is  intelligible ; 
and  practical  reason  adds  :  it  is  certain.  Hence,  there  is  no 
real  contradiction  between  the  faculty  of  knowledge  and  of 
will.  Our  acts  are  determined,  in  so  far  as  they  occur  in 
time  and  in  space,  indetermined  and  free,  in  so  far  as  the 
source  whence  the}^  spring,  our  intelligible  character,  is  in- 
dependent of  these  two  forms  of  sensibility.^ 

This  would  not  be  a  solution  if  time  and  space  were 
objective  realities,  as  dogmatic  philosophy  conceives  them. 
From  that  point  of  vieiv,  Spinoza  is  right  in  denying  free- 
dom. However,  as  soon  as  we  agree  with  criticism,  that 
space  and,  above  all,  time  are  modes  of  seeing  things,  and 
do  not  affect  the  things  themselves,  determinism  is  reduced 
to  a  mere  theory  or  general  conception  of  things,  a  theory 
or  conception  which  reason  cannot  repudiate  without 
abdicating,  but  which  by  no  means  expresses  their  real 
essence. 

The  Kantian  solution  of  the  problem  of  freedom  at  first 
sight  provokes  a  very  serious  objection.  If  the  soul,  as  in- 
telligible character,  does  not  exist  in  time,  if  it  is  not  a 
phenomenon,  we  can  no  longer  subsume  it  under  the  cate- 
gory of  causality,  since  the  categoi-ies  api)ly  only  to  phe- 
nomena and  not  to  "  noumena."  Hence  it  ceases  to  be  a 
cause  and  a  free  cause.  Nor  can  we  apply  to  it  the  cate- 
gory of  unity.  Hence  it  ceases  to  be  an  individual  apart 
from  other  individuals  :  it  is  identified  with  the  universal, 
the  eternal,  and  the  infinite.  Fichte,  therefore,  consistently 
deduces  his   do(;triiie   of   tlir   iibsoliilc   ego   from    Kantian 

*  Krilik  till-  pruktiachcn  Verntnift,  \>\>.  L'L'.')  iT. 
80 


4G6  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

j)remises.  Our  philosopher,  however,  does  not  seem  to 
have  the  slightest  suspicion  that  this  is  the  logical  conclu- 
sion of  his  theory.  Nay,  he  postulates,  always  in  the  name 
of  practical  reason,  individual  immortality  ^  as  a  necessary 
condition  of  the  solution  of  the  moral  problem,  and  the 
existence  of  a  God  ^  apart  from  the  intelligible  ego,  as  the 
highest  guarantee  of  the  moral  order  and  the  ultimate 
triumph  of  the  good.  It  is  true,  Kant's  theology  is  merely 
an  appendix  to  his  ethics,  and  is  not  to  be  taken  very 
seriously.  It  is  no  longer,  as  in  tlie  Middle  Ages,  the 
queen  of  the  sciences,  but  the  humble  servant  of  inde- 
pendent ethics.  Tliis  personal  God,  afterwards  postulated 
by  the  Critique  of  Practical  Reason,  forcibly  reminds  us  of 
the  celebrated  epigram  of  a  contemporary  of  our  philoso- 
pher :  "  If  there  were  no  God,  we  should  have  to  invent 
one." 

The  real  God  of  Kant  is  Freedom  in  the  service  of  the 
ideal,  or  the  good  Will  (der  giite  JVllle).^ 

His  conviction  in  this  matter  is  most  clearly  expressed  by 
the  doctrine  of  the  primacy  of  practical  reason^^  i.  e.,  of  the 
will.^  Theoretical  reason  and  practical  reason,  though  not 
directly  contradicting  each  other,  are  slightly  at  variance  as 
to  the  most  important  questions  of  ethics  and  religion,  the 
former  tending  to  conceive  liberty,  God,  and  the  absolute  as 
ideals  having  no  demonstralile  objective  existence,  the 
latter  affirming  the  reality  of  the  autonomous  soul,  responsi- 
bility, immortality,  and  the  Supreme  Being.  The  conse- 
quences of  this  dualism  would  be  disastrous  if  theoretical 
reason  and  practical  reason  were  of  equal  rank;  and  they 

^  Kr'itih  der praliischen  Vernunff,  p.  261.  ^  7^/,^  p_  og4_ 

3  Grundlegunrj  zur  Melapliysik  der  Sitten,  p.  11  :  Es  ist  uhernll  y^icJits 
in  der  Welt,  ja  uberhaupt  auch  auxser  derselben  zu  denken  moglich,  loas 
ohne  EinscTirdnkung  filr  gut  konnte  gehalten  icerden,  als  allein  ein  Gutkr 

WiLLE. 

^  Kritik  der  prakti^chen  Vernunft,  p.  258.  ^  Id.,  pp.  105  ff. 


KANT  467 

would  be  still  more  disastrous,  were  the  latter  subordinated 
to  the  former.  But  tlie  authority  of  practical  reason  is 
superior  to  that  of  theoretical  reason,  and  in  real  life  the 
former  predominates.  Hence  we  should,  in  any  case,  act  as 
if  it  were  proved  that  we  are  free,  that  the  soid  is  immortal, 
that  there  is  a  supreme  judge  and  rewarder. 

In  certain  respects,  the  dualism  of  understanding  and 
will  is  a  happy  circumstance.  If  the  realities  of  religion, 
God,  freedom,  and  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  were  self- 
evident  truths,  or  capable  of  theoretical  proof,  we  should 
do  the  good  for  the  sake  of  future  reward,  our  will  would 
cease  to  be  autonomous,  our  acts  would  no  longer  be  strictly 
moral ;  for  every  other  motive  except  the  categorical  impera- 
tive of  conscience  and  the  respect  \\hich  i'  inspires,  be  it 
friendship)  or  even  the  love  of  God,  renders  the  will  het- 
ero7iomous,  and  deprives  its  acts  of  their  ethical  character. 
Moreover,  religion  is  true  only  when  completely  identical 
with  morality.  Religion  within  the  bounds  of  reason  con- 
sists in  morality,  nothing  more  nor  less.  The  essence  of 
Christianity  is  eternal  morality  ;  the  goal  of  the  church  is 
the  triumph  of  riglit  in  humanity.  When  the  chui'ch  aims 
at  a  different  goal,  it  loses  its  raison  d'etre} 

^  Din  Rdigion  innerhnlh  iler  Grenzen  (krhlosxen  Vernnnfl,  pp.  130  ff.; 
205  ff.  —  The  inrlepemlevt  mornlitij  of  the  socialist  P.  J.  Proudhon  (1809- 
1805)  is  grounded  on  these  principles.  It  is  based  on  the  following 
proposition  :  "  Morality  must  cease  o  lean  on  theolotry  for  support,  it 
must  free  itself  from  all  so-called  revealed  dogmas,  and  base  itself 
solely  on  conscience  and  the  innate  principle  of  justice,  without  re- 
quiring the  support  of  the  l)elief  in  God  and  the  immortality  of  the 
soul."  This  doctrine  of  Proudhon  has  been  reproduced  and  popular- 
ized by  a  weekly  journal,  tlie  "  Morale  imlcpendante,"  edited  by  Massol, 
Morin,  and  Coignet  (1805  11.;. 


468  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

III.     Critique  of  Judgment* 

"While  the  Critique  of  Practical  Reason,  with  its  categori- 
cal imperative,  its  primacy  of  the  conscience,  and  its  absolute 
independence  of  morality,  satisfies  Kant's  moral  feeling 
and  liis  great  love  of  liberty,  which  had  been  shaken  by  the 
conclusions  of  the  Critique  of  Pure  Reason.,  the  philosophical 
instinct  reasserts  itself  in  his  aesthetics  and  teleology, 
wliich  form  the  subject-matter  of  his  Critique  of  Judgment. 
We  have  seen  how,  in  the  Critique  of  Pure  Reason.,  he 
universally  combines  synthesis  with  analysis,  how  he  solders 
together  the  heterogeneous  paits  of  the  cognitive  appa- 
ratus :  between  the  functions  of  sensibility  and  those  of 
reason  he  discovers  the  intermediate  function  of  the  idea 
of  time,  which  is  half  intuition,  half  category ;  between 
a  2J^"iort  concepts  which  are  diametrically  opposed,  he 
inserts  intermediary  categories.  The  same  synthetic  im- 
pulse leads  him,  in  his  Critique  of  Judgriient,  to  bridge 
over  the  chasm  wliich  separates  theoretical  reason  and  the 
conscience.^ 

The  sesthetical  and  teleological  sense  is  an  intermediate 
faculty,  a  connecting  link  between  the  understanding  and 
the  will.  Truth  is  the  object  of  tlie  understanding,  nature 
and  natural  necessity  its  subject-matter.  The  will  strives 
for  the  good ;  it  deals  with  freedom.  The  ajsthetical  and 
teleological  sense  (or  judgment  in  the  narrow  sense  of  the 
term)  is  concerned  with  what  lies  between  the  true  and 
the  good,  between  nature  and  liberty :  we  mean  the  beauti- 
ful and  the  purposive.  Kant  calls  it  judgment  because  of 
the  analogy  between  its  manifestations  and  what  is  called 
judgment  in  logic ;  like  the  judgment,   the  sense  of  the 

1  [A.  Stadler,  Kant's  Teleologie,  etc.,  Berlin,  1874;  Yi.Co\\&i\,  Kant" s 
Begriinduny  der  Aesthetik.  Berlin,  1889  ;  J.  Goldfriedrich,  Kant's  Aes- 
thetik,  Leipsic,  1895 ;  J.  H.  Tufts,  The  Sources  and  Development  ofKant^s 
Teleology,  Chicago,  1892.  —  Tr.]. 

2  Kritik  der  Urtheilskraft,  p.  14. 


KANT  469 

beautiful  and  the  teleological  establishes  a  relation  between 
two  things  which  as  such  have  nothing  in  common :  between 
what  ought  to  be  and  what  is,  between  freedom  and  natural 
necessity. 

1.  Esthetics.  —  The  sesthetical  sense  differs  both  from 
the  understantUng  and  the  will.  It  is  neither  theoretical 
nor  practical  in  character  ;  it  is  a  phenomenon  sui  generis. 
But  it  has  this  in  common  with  reason  and  will,  that  it 
rests  on  an  essentially  subjective  basis.  Just  as  reason 
constitutes  the  true,  and  will  the  good,  so  the  testhetical 
sense  makes  the  beautiful.  Beauty  does  not  inhere  in  ob- 
jects ;  it  does  not  exist  apart  from  the  ajsthetical  sense  ;  it  is 
the  product  of  this  sense,  as  time  and  space  are  the  products 
of  the  theoretical  sense.  That  is  beautiful  which  pleases 
(quality),  wliich  pleases  all  (quantity),  which  pleases  with- 
out interest  and  without  a  concept  (relation),  and  pleases 
necessarily  (modality).^ 

What  characterizes  the  beautiful  and  distinguishes  it 
from  the  sublime,  is  the  feeling  of  peace,  tranquillity,  or 
harmony  which  it  arouses  in  us,  in  consequence  of  the  per- 
fect agreement  between  the  understanding  and  the  imagi- 
nation. The  sul)lime,  on  the  other  hand,  disturbs  ns.  agitates 
us,  transports  us.  Beauty  dwells  in  tlie  form  ;  the  sublime, 
in  the  disproportion  between  the  form  and  the  content. 
The  beautiful  calms  and  pacifies  us ;  the  sublime  brings 
disorder  into  our  faculties;  it  produces  discord  between 
the  reason,  which  conceives  the  infinite,  and  the  imagina- 
tion, which  has  its  fixed  limits.  The  emotion  caused  in  us 
l)y  the  starry  heavens,  the  storm,  and  the  raging  sea  springs 
from  the  conflict  aroused  by  these  different  phenomena 
between  our  reason,  which  can  measure  the  forces  of  nature 
and  tlic  hoavenly  distances  without  l)cing  overwhelmed  by 
the  enormous  figures,  and  our  imagination,  which  cannot 

*  Krilik  tier  Urtheilskraft,  y\k  I'j  IT. 


470  MODERN  PHILOSOrHY 

follow  reason  into  the  depths  of  infinity.  Man  has  a  feeling 
of  grandeur,  because  he  himself  is  grand  through  reason. 
The  animal  remains  passive  in  the  presence  of  the  grand 
spectacles  of  nature,  because  its  intelligence  does  not  rise 
beyond  the  level  of  its  imagination.  Hence  we  aptly  say, 
the  sublime  elevates  the  soul  (^das  Urhahene  ist  erheheml^. 
In  the  feeling  of  the  sublime,  man  reveals  himself  as  a  being 
infinite  in  reason,  finite  in  imagination.  Both  infinite  and 
fuiite :  how  is  that  possible  ?  Kant  cannot  fathom  this 
mystery  without  surpassing  the  limits  which  he  has  pre- 
scribed to  knowledge.^ 

2.  Teleoloiju?  —  There  are  two  kinds  of  purposiveness. 
The  one  arouses  in  us,  immediately  and  without  the  aid  of 
any  concept,  a  feeling  of  pleasure,  satisfaction,  and  inner 
harmony  :  this  is  subjective  finality,  which  constitutes  the 
beautiful.  The  other  also  arouses  pleasure,  but  mediately, 
in  consequence  of  an  experience  or  an  intermediate  process 
of  reasoning:  tins  is  objective  finality,  which  constitutes 
the  suitable  {das  Zwecknu'ismje).  Thus,  a  flower  may  be 
both  the  object  of  an  a3sthetical  judgment  in  the  artist,  and 
of  a  teleological  judgment  in  the  naturalist,  \A\o  has  tested 
its  value  as  a  remedy.  Only,  the  judgment  which  stamps 
it  as  beautiful  is  immediate  and  spontaneous,  while  that  of 
the  naturalist  depends  on  previous  experience. 

The  Critique  of  Pure  Eeaso7i  regards  every  phenomenon 
as  a  necessary  effect,  and  therefore  excludes  purposiveness 
from  the  phenomenal  world.  Physics  merely  enumerates 
an  infinite  series  of  causes  and  effects.  Teleology  intro- 
duces between  the  cause  and  the  effect,  considered  as  the 
end  or  goal,  the  means,  the  instrumental  cause.  Theoreti- 
cally, teleology  is  valueless.  However,  we  cannot  avoid  it 
so  long  as  we  apply  our  teleological  sense  to  the  study  of 
nature.     Unless  we  abandon  one  of  our  faculties,  which  is 

1  Kritik  der  Urthellskraft,  pp.  97  ff. ;  399  ff. 
«  Id.,  pp.  239  ff. 


KANT  471 

as  real  and  inevitable  as  reason. and  will,  we  cannot  help 
recognizing  purposiveness  in  the  structure  of  the  eye,  the 
ear,  and  the  organism  in  general.  Though  mechanism 
fully  explains  the  inorganic  world,  the  teleological  vicAV 
forces  itself  upon  us  when  we  come  to  consider  anatomy, 
physiology,  and  biology. 

The  antinomy  of  mechanism,  aflirmed  by  the  theoretical 
reason,  and  teleology,  claimed  bj*  the  teleological  sense,  is 
no  more  insoluble  than  that  of  necessity  and  freedom.^ 
Teleology  is  notliing  but  a  theory  concerning  phenomena. 
It  no  more  expresses  the  essence  of  things  than  mechanism. 
This  essence  is  as  unknowable  for  the  Critique  of  Judgment 
as  for  the  Critique  of  Pure  Beason.  Things-in-themselves 
are  not  in  time ;  they  have  no  succession,  no  duration. 
According  to  mechanism,  the  cause  and  its  effect,  accord- 
ing to  teleology,  the  free  cause,  the  means,  and  the  goal  at 
which  it  aims,  follow  each  other,  i.  e.,  they  are  separated 
in  time.  But  time  is  merely  an  a  priori  form  of  intuition, 
a  mode  of  conceiving  things ;  as  such  and  apart  from  my 
thought  or  my  theorj^  the  cause  and  the  effect  of  the 
mechanist,  the  creative  agent,  the  means,  and  the  goal  of 
the  telef)logist,  are  in  each  other,  inscparaljle,  simultaneous. 
Imagine  an  understandino;  which  is  not  lx)und  to  the 
a  priori  forms  of  space  and  time  like  ours,  a  free  and  ab- 
solute intellectual  intuition:  such  an  understanding  would 
perceive  the  cause,  the  means,  and  the  end  at  one  glance ; 
it  would  identify  the  end  and  the  principle;  the  end  would 
not  follow  tlie  efficient  cause,  but  would  be  innnanent  in  it 
and  identical  witli  it.  Immanent  teleologij,  which  iden- 
tifies the  ends  of  nature  with  the  acting  causes,  is  the 
natural  solution  of  the  antinomy  of  niocliaiiisip.  and  i)ni- 
posiveness. 

We  see  that  the  sMbjectivity  of  lime  and  space  is  the  most 

'  Kiitik  iter  Urtlttilshafl,  1'1>.  '-^^2  IT. 


472  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

original  and,  on  the  whole,  the  most  fruitful  of  Kant's 
teachings.  There  is  no  question  so  subtle,  no  problem  so 
obscure,  as  not  to  be  illuminated  by  it.  Space  and  time  are 
the  eyes  of  the  mind,  the  organs  which  reveal  to  it  its 
inexhaustible  content.  These  organs  are  at  the  same  time 
the  boundaries  of  its  knowledge.  But  in  spite  of  this 
insurmountable  barrier,  it  feels  free,  immortal,  and  divine  ; 
and  it  declares  its  independence  in  the  field  of  action.  It 
is  the  mind  which  prescribes  its  laws  to  the  phenomenal 
world ;  it  is  the  mind  from  which  the  moral  law  proceeds ; 
it  is  the  mind  and  its  judgment  which  make  the  beautiful 
beautiful.  In  short,  the  three  Critiques  culminate  in  ab- 
solute spiritualism.  Kant  compared  his  work  to  that  of 
Copernicus :  just  as  the  author  of  the  Celestial  Revolutions 
puts  the  sun  in  the  place  of  the  earth  in  our  planetary 
system,  so  the  author  of  the  Critiq^ue  places  the  mind  in 
the  centre  of  the  phenomenal  world  and  makes  the  latter 
dependent  upon  it.  Kant's  philosophy  is,  undoubtedly, 
the  most  remarkable  and  most  fruitful  product  of  modern 
thought.  With  a  single  exception,  perhaps,^  the  greatest 
systems  wdiich  our  century  has  produced  are  continuations 
of  Kantianism.  Even  those  —  and  their  number  has  grown 
during  the  last  thirty  years  —  who  have  again  taken  up  the 
Anglo-French  philosophy  of  the  eighteenth  century,  revere 
the  illustrious  name  of  Immanuel  Kant. 

^  We  mean  the  system  of  Comte,  which  is  closely  related  to  the 
French  philosophy  of  the  eighteenth  century.  Comte  himself  says, 
in  a  letter  to  Gustave  d'Eichthal,  dated  December  10th,  1824  :  "  I  have 
always  considered  Kant  not  only  as  a  very  powerful  thinker,  hut  also 
as  the  metaphysician  who  most  closely  approximates  the  positive 
philosophy." 


KANT  AND   GERMAN  IDEALISM  473 

§  63.     Kant  and  German  Idealism  i 

The  dogmatic  Leibniz-Wolffiaii  scliool,-  the  sceptic  G.  E. 
ScHULZE,^  the  eclectic  Herdee,"^  Jacobi  ^  and  Hamann,^ 
the  exponents  of  religious  faith,  accept  the  challenge 
Avliich  Kant  had  hurled  at  all  traditions.  Some  "inde- 
pendents" (Salomon  Malmon,"  Bakdili,^  etc.)  take  ex- 
ception to  his  teachings  or  protest  against  them,  although 
they,  too,  feel  his  influence.  But  the  Kantian  philosophy 
was  eagerly  welcomed,  though  not  wholly  understood,  by 
numerous  disciples,  some  of  tliem  (B outer wek,^  Krug,^'' 

^  [See  p.  434,  note  1 ;  also  vol.  V.  of  K.  Fischer's  Ilislori/  and  Zeller's 
German  Philosophy.  —  Tu.] 

2  Eberhard  (1738-1809),  professor  at  Halle,  was  its  chief  represen- 
tative. 

3  1761-1833.  Author  of  ^'Enesidemus,  1792.  [If  tlie  categories  can- 
not be  applied  to  things-in-theniselves,  how  can  we  know  whether 
these  exist  or  do  not  exist?  "  We  can  have  no  absolutely  certain  and 
universally  valid  knowledge,  in  philosophy,  either  of  the  existence  or 
non-existence  of  things-in-themselvcs  and  their  properties,  or  of  the 
limits  of  human  knowledge."  Kant's  critique  logically  culminates  in 
scepticism.  —  Tr.] 

*  17-44-1803.  The  theologian  Herder,  one  of  the  stars  of  German 
literature,  teaches  a  kind  of  Christianized  Spinozism,  in  which  he  antici- 
pates the  philosophy  of  Schelling  and  Schleiermacher.  To  the  Critique 
of  Kant  he  opposes  his  Metakridk,  etc.,  Leipsic,  1799.  He  also  wrote: 
Ideen  zur  Philosophie  der  Geschichle  der  Menschheit,  Riga,  1784-1791. 

5  1743-1819.  Complete  works,  6  vols.,  Leipsic,  1812-25.  [See 
Harms,  Ueher  die  Lehre  von  F.  H.  Jncohi,  Berlin.  187G;  L.  Ldvy-Bruhl, 
La  philosophie  de  Jacobi,  Paris,  1894.  —  Tu.] 

6  1730-1788.  Works  published  by  Roth,  Berlin,  1821-43  ;  [also  by 
(Jildemeister,  6  vols.,  Gotha,  1858-73]. 

^  1754-1800.     ilaimou  rejects  tlie  Kantian  notion  of  Ih.'  ihing-in- 
itself,  and  approaches  Fichte.     [Cf.  Witlo,  S.  Maivum,  Berlin,  1870.] 
'  1761-1S08.     Bardili's  rational  realistn  anticipates  Hegel's  logic. 

•  1706-1828,  Professor  at  Gottingen,  known  especially  by  liis  Acs- 
thetik,  Leipsic,  1806. 

"  1770-1842.  Kant's  successor  at  Kiinigsberg,  1805,  then  (1809), 
professor   at   Leipsic.     IJntwu/f  eincs  ncucn  Oryanurt   der  Philosojdiic, 


i74  MODERN  riiiLOSoriiv 

FiiiES,^  etc.)  being  original  thinkers.  Its  chief  apostles 
were:  Schillek,^  the  national  poet  of  Germany,  IIein- 
HOLD,^  and  FiCHTE.  The  University  of  Jena  became  the 
brilliant  centre  of  the  new  movement,  the  crucible,  as  it 
were,  in  which  the  new  views  were  soon  transformed. 

The  original  and  genuine  criticism  occupied  a  position 
between  the  sensationalism  of  Locke,  Hume,  and  Condillac, 
and  the  intellectualism  of  Leibniz.  Sensationalism  had 
declared :  All  ideas  and  consequently  all  truths,  to  what- 

Meissen,  1801 ;  Fundamentalphilosophie,  2nd  ed.,  1819  ;  Das  System  der 
theoretischen  Philosophie,  3  vols.,  2d  ed.,  Konigsberg,  1819-23;  System 
der practischen  Philosophie,  3  vols.,  id.,  1817-19;  Handbuch  der  Philo- 
sophie, 2  vols.,  Leipsic,  1820-21 ;  Das  allgemeine  Handbuch  der  philoso- 
phischen  Wissenschaften,  2d  ed.,  5  vols.,  Leipsic,  1832-38.  —  Krug,  who 
holds  that  an  original  a  priori  sj^ithesis,  not  further  to  be  explained, 
takes  place  within  us  between  beiiig  and  knowledge,  calls  his  system  : 
transcendental  synthetism, 

^  1773-1843.  Professor  at  Heidelberg  and  Jena.  Fries  refers 
criticism  to  the  domain  of  psychology,  and  bases  it  on  inner  observa- 
tion. His  philosophy  is  a  connecting  link  between  Kantianism  and 
the  Scotch  school.  We  mention  the  following  writings  :  System  der 
Philosophie  als  evidenter  Wissenschaft,  Leipsic,  1804;  Wissen,  Glaube 
und  Ahndung,  Jena,  1805,  3d  ed.,  1837;  [his  best  known  work  :  Neue 
Kritikder  Vernunft,  3  vols.,  Heidelberg,  1807,  2d  ed.,  1828-31];  and 
many  highly  prized  text-books.  He  had  numerous  disciples;  among 
them :  the  philosopher  Aj)elt,  the  naturalist  Sclileiden,  and  the  tlieo- 
logian  De  Wette. 

2  (17.59-1805).  Briefe  uher  rcsthetische  Erziehung,  1793-95;  \_Ueber 
Anmuth  und  Wurde,  1793;  Ueber  naive  und  sentimentale  Dichtung,  1795- 
90,  Engl.  tr.  in  Bohn's  Library.  See  Kuno  Fischer,  Schiller  als  Philo- 
soph,  Frankfort,  1858  ;  2d  completely  revised  ed.  (Schillerschriften,  III, 
IV),  Heidelberg,  1891-92.  —  Tr.]. 

3  1758-1823.  Versuch  einer  neuen  Theorie  des  menschlichen  Vorstel- 
lungsvermogens,  Jena,  1789  ;  ^Das  Fundament  des philosophischen  Wissens, 
1791].  Reinhold's  so-called  elementary  theory  derives  the  a  priori  and 
a  posteri<n-i  elements  of  knowledge  from  a  common  principle  :  the 
faculty  of  representation  ( Vorstellungsvermogen).  It  anticipates  the 
subjective  idealism  of  Fichte,  which  calls  this  common  principle  the 
ego. 


KA2sT  AND   GERMAN  IDEALISM  475 

ever  order  they  may  belong,  are  derived  from  tlie  senses 
(and  reflection) ;  reason  does  not  create  them,  it  receives 
them.  Intellectualism,  on  the  other  hand,  had  asserted: 
All  our  ideas  and  consequently  all  truths  whatsoever  are 
the  product  of  reason.  So-called  outer  perception  is  merely 
an  elementary  speculation ;  the  thinking  subject  is  wholly 
active,  and  even  in  cases  where  it  imagines  that  it  receives, 
it  creates.  Criticism  agrees  with  sensationalism  in  holding 
that  our  ideas,  without  exception,  are  given  by  sensation ; 
but,  it  adds,  their  matter  or  material  alone  is  given,  their 
form  is  the  product  of  reason :  in  tliis  respect  intellectualism 
has  the  right  on  its  side.  In  other  words,  it  distinguishes, 
in  every  idea,  a  material  element,  which  is  furnished  a 
posteriori  by  the  senses,  and  a  formal  element,  furnished  a 
priori  by  thought.  Every  science,  therefore,  or  philosophy, 
consists  of  two  parts :  a  pure^  rational,  or  speculative  part, 
and  an  empirical  part.  Hence,  criticism  recognizes  the 
partial  truth  of  two  systems  and  two  methods ;  and  conse- 
quently repudiates  the  pretentious  claim  of  either  side  to 
possess  absolute  truth  and  to  employ  the  only  possible 
method.  It  is  both  idealistic  and  realistic,  and  yet,  strictly 
speaking,  neither  one  nor  the  othei-. 

But  this  state  of  equilibrium  did  not  last  long.  Ueiidiold 
soon  disturbed  it  with  his  elementar//  theory,^  and  Kant  lived 
to  see  the  triumph  of  absolute  intellectualism,  whieli,  l)y 
way  of  reaction,  led  to  the  restoration  of  pure  sensational- 
ism. He  protested,  as  loudly  as  he  could,  against  this  con- 
dition of  things;  yet  it  must  be  acknowledged  that  his 
Critique  of  Pure  Reason,  as  well  as  his  other  two  Critiques, 
contained  the  germs  of  the  idealistic  theories  of  the  nine- 
teenth century.  Under  the  influence  of  the  Spinozistic 
system  wliicli  Lcssing  and  Herder  bad  recently  intixKhu-ed 
into  f  Jermany,  tliese  germs  soon  sj)rouled. 

Kant   had  intiinateil  that   the  iiiysteiit)us  unknown   eou- 

1  Sec  page  171,  note  ;5. 


476  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

cealed  beliind  the  phenomena  of  sense  might  possibly  be 
identical  with  the  unknown  in  ourselves.  This  simple 
thought,  wliich,  however,  he  failed  to  carry  out,  contained 
the  philosophy  of  Fichte. 

But  even  if  he  had  never  advanced  the  hypothesis  of  the 
identity  of  the  ego  and  the  non-ego,  his  criticism  would  still 
bear  a  very  pronounced  idealistic  stamp.  Although  it  es- 
tablishes an  independent  order  of  things  apart  from  reason, 
a  transcendent  object,  which  impresses  our  senses  and  fur- 
nishes the  material  for  our  ideas,  it  assigns  to  pure  reason 
the  highest  role  imaginable.  Reason,  the  thinking  subject, 
creates  space  and  lime  ;  reason,  with  the  materials  supplied 
by  the  senses,  makes,  constructs,  or  constitutes  the  phenom- 
enon. The  phenomenon  is  its  work,  if  not  its  creation. 
Reason  applies  to  phenomena  the  categories  of  relation  and 
connects  them  by  the  tie  of  causality ;  through  the  legisla- 
tive power  of  reason,  phenomena  become  effects  and  causes ; 
and  if  we  mean  by  nature,  not  the  totality  of  the  things 
themselves,  but  only  the  sum  of  sensible  and  inner  phenom- 
ena considered  in  their  regular  connections,  then  reason 
makes  or  2Jroduces  nature^  for  reason  prescribes  to  nature  its 
laws.^  From  reason,  finally,  are  derived  the  Ideas  of  the 
world,  God,  and  the  absolute. 

If  reason  makes  time  and  space,  if  reason  determines  and 
regulates  the  phenomenon,  if  reason  constitutes  nature  and 
the  universal  order,  what  becomes  of  that  which,  according 
to  empiricism,  is  given  to  reason  ?  The  raw  material  of  the 
phenomenon,  or,  what  amounts  to  the  same,  of  intuition 
and  thought,  the  unknown  quantity  which  occasions  the 
difference  between  sound,  light,  smell,  taste,  temperature, 
pleasure,  and  pain,  "  something,  I-know-not-what,"  which 
brings  it  about  that  a  person  born  blind,  though  he  may  be 
an  excellent  mathematician  and  perfectly  able  to  understand 
the  laws  of  optics,  cannot  form  a  correct  notion  of  light,  — 
1  Proleyomena,  pp.  84-85. 


KANT  AND   GERMAN   IDEALISM  477 

that  is  all  that  is  given  to  us,  everything  else  being  our  own 
creation.  Given  by  whom  ?  Given  by  what  ?  By  some- 
thing, I-know-not^what,  which  is  called  tlie  thing-in-itself,  a 
transcendent  object,  which,  consequently,  cannot  be  known, 
a  mysterious  agent,  wliich  calls  forth  sensations,  and  co- 
operates in  the  formation  of  ideas,  but  in  regard  to  which 
I  have  no  right  to  allirm  or  to  deny  anything. 

But  how,  then,  can  you  affirm  that  it  is  an  agent,  that  it 
provokes  sensations  ?  ^  The  transcendent  object  of  intuition 
(the  thing-in-itself)  is  neither  in  space  nor  in  time.  Space 
and  time  contain  phenomena  only,  i.  e.,  that  which  appears  ; 
and  the  thing-in-itself  does  not  appear.  We  cannot  apply 
to  it  any  of  the  forms  of  the  understanding ;  we  cannot 
conceive  it,  as  Kant  explicitly  states,^  either  as  magnitude, 
reality,  or  substance.  Hence  we  cannot  conceive  it  as  the 
caiise  of  our  impressions,  although  Kant  flatly  contradicts 
himself  and  regards  it  as  such.^  But  if  the  thing-in-itself 
cannot  be  conceived  either  as  a  quantity,  or  as  a  cause,  or 
as  a  reality,  it  cannot  be  considered  as  anything;  it  is 
nothing,  or  rather  it  exists  only  in  the  thinking  subject ; 
like  space,  time,  and  the  categories,  it  is  identical  with  the 
subject  which  conceives  it.*  The  matter  of  our  ideas, 
the  transcendent  substratum  of  the  plienomcna  of  sense,  is 
the  same  as  the  substratum  of  the  inner  plu'nouu'ua,  the  soul, 
or  ego,  or  reason  giving  to  itself  not  only  the  funa  but  also 
the  matter  of  its  ideas.  Reason  not  merely  assists  in  the 
production  of  the  plienomenon,  it  is  the  creator  —  the  sole 
creator  —  of  llic  ])licn(tni(ii:il   world.      Hence  it  is,  in  the 

1  This  contradiction  was  especially  pointed  out  Ity  .1.  Sigisnmnd 
Beck  (1701-1840),  wlio  did  not,  liowevor,  succeed  in  eliminating  il 
from  Kantianism.  [Hi'ck  (Einzif/  vtwfllcher  Sl(in(f/»niht  oux  u-elc/ievi 
(lie  krilische  Philo.tophte  heurtheill  wenlin  ?/ims.s,  Itiga,  ITilO)  rejects  the 
thing  in-itself,  and  interprets  the  Cnti<iue  in  the  idealistic  sense.  —  Tu.] 

2  Krilik  der  reinen  Vernunft,  p.  231. 
»  Id. 

*  Hence  the  \muu-,  philosuithij  nf  identity. 


47S  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

last  analysis,  an  inconsistency  of  the  Kantian  philosophy  to 
concede  the  existence  of  a  thing-in-itself  outside  of  and  lij 
the  side  of  reason,  so  to  speak.  The  true  consequence  of  the 
Critique  of  Pure  Reason  is  the  monism  of  the  ego,  or  abso- 
lute idealism. 

But  though  the  Critique  of  Pure  Reason  takes  us  to  the 
threshold  of  panlogism,  with  its  system  and  method,  does 
not  the  result  of  the  Critique  of  Practical  Reason^  the  dual- 
ism of  the  "  two  reasons,"  absolutely  hinder  us  from  cross- 
ing it?  The  speculative  Kantians,  with  Fichte  at  their 
head,  do  not  regard  this  teaching  as  an  obstacle  to  their 
interpretation  of  criticism,  but  consider  it  as  an  additional 
argument  in  its  favor. 

To  begin  with,  by  subordinating  the  theoretical  reason  to 
the  practical  reason,  and  al'lirming  the  prinuu-y  of  the  moral 
consciousness,  Kant  not  only  proclaims  the  dualism  of  the 
'''  two  reasons,"  but  also  the  monism  of  the  practical  reason, 
of  which  theoretical  reason  and  the  teleological  judgment 
are  mere  modes  or  dependencies.  He  could  not  have 
affirmed  this  primacy,  had  he  discovered  absolute  contra- 
dictions or  insoluble  antinomies  between  practical  reason 
and  theoretical  reason.  But  such  is  not  the  case.  There 
is  a  connecting  link  between  theoretical  reason  and  practical 
reason,  and  this  connecting  link  is  the  tliing-in-itself  the 
noumenon,  the  intelligible  order,  supposed  by  theoretical 
reason,  postulated  and  openly  affirmed  by  the  conscience. 

The  "  two  reasons  "  would  contradict  each  other,  if  one 
denied  what  the  other  affirms :  the  invisible,  the  ideal, 
the  absolute.  In  realit}^  the  theoretical  reason  does  not 
reject  the  absolute  ;  it  simply  recognizes  its  inability  to 
know  it  and  to  demonstrate  its  existence.  The  same  may 
be  said  of  freedom,  which  is  synonymous  with  the  absolute. 
What  the  Critique  of  Pure  Reason  does  deny  is  liberty  in 
the  phenomenal  world.  It  recognizes  in  iiatiire  nothing 
but  the  law  of  causality,  mechanism,  the  determinism  of 


KANT   AND   GERMAN   IDEALISM  479 

facts,  but  it  conceives  liberty  as  a  prerogative  of  tlie  thing- 
iii-itsclf,  wbile  niaiataiiiing  the  impossibility  of  a  theoretical 
demonstration.  The  thinq-in-itself  via//  be  considered  as 
free.  Now,  practical  reason  categorically  alhrms  the  liberty 
of  the  acting  subject,  the  freedom  of  the  ego.  Hence,  the 
Critique  of  Pmdical  Reason^  instead  of  contradicting  the 
idealistic  conclusions,  confirms  them :  the  ego  itself  is 
the  thing-in-itself  (the  free  tiling) ;  the  object  which  seems 
to  determine  us  from  without,  is  merely  the  subject  acting 
within  ourselves  ;  object  and  subject,  being  and  thought, 
nature  and  mind,  are  identical.  If  the  /  were  determined 
by  an  object-z?i-/ts'f7/,  the  "  two  reasons  "  would  absolutely 
contradict  each  other ;  the  ego  would  henceforth  be  a  slave 
in  theory  and  in  practice,  and  moral  freedom  woidd  be  an 
inexplicable  illusion.  But  the  Ihing-in-itsclf,  the  thing 
which  determines  us  ''from  without"  being  in  reality  the 
soVi\-in-itself  the  self-determining  subject ;  the  ego,  though 
determined,  is  free  and  autonomous,  since  it  determines 
itself  in  the  form  of  an  external  object. 

Instead  of  making  against  idealistic  monism,  Kant's 
ethics  culminates  in  it.  True,  it  postulates  the  immortality 
of  the  soul  and  tlie  existence  of  a  personal  God  apart  fi-om 
the  eoro.  But  tliis  doul)le  affirmation  is  a  mere  accident  in 
the  system  :  essential  to  it  is  the  allirmatioii  of  the  absolute 
freedom  of  the  ego,  the  doctrine  of  the  practical  al)solute  of 
the  ego.  Xow,  the  ego  which  Kant  holds  to  be  absolutely 
free  is  not  the  empirical  ego,  the  plicnomciial  self,  the  self 
which  exists  in  time,  but  the  noumenal  ego,  i.  e.,  tlie  ego 
raised  al)0ve  space  and  time.  To  speak  of  the  immortality 
of  an  ego  that  does  not  exist  in  time,  for  whidi,  tlierefore, 
there  is  no  before  or  after,  is  an  inconsistency  similar  to  the 
doctrine  tliat  the  tliing-in-itsclf  is  distinct  from  tlie  personal 
subject,  an  inconsistency  wliicli  has  no  organic  connection 
with  the  essence  of  the  Hystem.  The  same  holds  foi-  the 
theistic  teacliing.      Ood   is  undouljtcdly  (li-<(iiict   from   tlie 


480  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

empirical  and  plienomenal  ego,  but  he  cannot  be  anything 
but  the  absolute  ego  or  the  intelligible  ego  ;  otherwise  there 
would  be  two  absolutes. 

The  Critique  of  Judgment  opened  up  a  still  wider  field 
than  the  other  two  Critiques  to  the  most  illustrious  dis- 
ciples of  Kant.  They  discovered  in  it  not  only  a  certain 
general  tendency  towards  pantheism,  foreign  to  the  other 
writings  of  the  master,  but  also  theories  which  could  not 
fail  to  culminate  in  pantheism.  We  mean  his  theory  of  the 
sublime,  liis  immaiient  telcoloffj/,  and  especially  his  hypothesis 
of  an  intellect  capable  of  an  immethate  and  comprehensive 
intuition  of  things.  The  first  makes  a  God-man  of  man ; 
the  second  substitutes  for  the  notion  of  creation  that  of 
evolution;  the  third  makes  a  serious,  though  indirect,  con- 
cession to  dogmatic  rationalism.  True,  Kant  does  not 
concede  intellectual  intuition  to  the  human  intellect,  but  he 
does  not  deny  it  to  the  intellect  in  general,  and  Schelling 
had  only  to  generalize  the  Kantian  hypothesis  to  convert  the 
intellectual  intuition  into  a  philosophical  method. 

Such  is  the  relation  between  Kantianism  and  the  systems 
of  Fichte,  Schelling,  and  Hegel.  Though  these  three  phi- 
losophies, or  rather,  these  three  phases  of  one  and  the  same 
teaching,  all  proceed  from  criticism, they  really  make  against 
it  in  so  far  as  they  occupy  themselves  particularly  with 
what  Kant  had  declared  "  forbidden  fruit,"  i.  e.,  the  abso- 
lute. Their  common  aim  is  to  re-establish  the  old  meta- 
physics, but  to  re-establish  it  upon  the  basis  of  criticism. 
In  almost  the  same  way  the  monarchies  which  emerged 
from  the  ruins  of  the  Revolution  restored  the  past  upon  the 
basis  of  the  principles  of  1789.  Kant  and  Fichte,  in  his 
first  phase,  are  the  philosophers  of  the  Revolution ;  Schel- 
ling and  Hegel  are  the  philosophers  of  the  Restoration. 


FICHTE  481 

§  04.    Yichte^ 

English  sensationalism  and  ihc  philosophy  of  relativity 
were  founded  by  a  student  of  medicine  and  a  layman. 
German  idealism  and  the  philosophy  of  the  absolute  come 
from  theology.  Johaxn  Gottlieb  Fichte  (1765-1814), 
its  founder,  like  Schelling  and  Hegel,  first  studied  for  the 
ministry.  His  Versuch  eiiicr  Kritik  aller  Offenbarung  (1792) 
won  for  him  a  professorship  in  Jena  (1793).  In  1794  he 
published  his  chief  work:  GriLiidlage  der  gcsammtcn  Wisseii- 
SGliaftslelire^  which  was  afterwards  revised  and  republished 
under  different  titles  ;  and  in  1796  his  Grundlage  dcs  JSfatur- 
rechts.  Accused  of  atheism,  he  resigned  his  chair  (1799), 
and  for  ten  years  he  and  his  young  family  suffered  the  trials 
attendant  upon  a  more  or  less  nomadic  life.  He  died  as  a 
professor  of  the  University  of  Berlin,  founded  in  1809. 
Besides  the  works  which  established  liis  fame,  we  mention 
the  following:  Die  Bestimmung  des  Menschen^  (1800); 
Ueber  das  Wesen  des  G-elehrten  und  seine  Erscheinungen  im 
Gebiete  der  Freiheit^  (1805);  Die  Amveisungen  zum  scligeii 
Leben  oder  auch  die  Religioiislehre  *  (1806) ;  Reden  an  die 

1  [Posthumous  works,  edited  by  J.  H.  Fichte,  3  vols.,  Boun,  1834; 
complete  works,  ed.  by  J.  II.  Fichte,  8  vols.,  1845-4G.  Fichte's  Popular 
Works,  tr.  by  W.  Smith,  4th  ed.,  Londou,  1889.  A.  F.  Kroeger,  The 
Science  of  Kuoidedge  (translations  of  the  GrimiUage  der  (jesammlen 
Wissenscha/lslelire :  (^rundrisa  des  Eif/entfiiimllchcn  der  Wissenschafls- 
lehre ;  etc.  etc.),  London,  1SS9;  The  Science  of  liii/hls  (tr.  of  Natur- 
rechl),  id.,  1889.  See  also  the  Journal  of  Speculative  Philosophy.  On 
Fichte  see:  J.  II.  Lowe,  Die  Philosophie  Fichte's,  Stuttgart,  1802; 
Adamson,  Fichte  (Blackwood's  Philosophical  C/n.w/c.s),  London,  1881  ; 
C.  C.  Everett,  Fichte's  Science  of  Knoirledr/e  (Crifff/s's  Philosophical 
Classic.i),  Chicago,  lS8i;  F.  Ziiniiwr, /.  G.  Fichte's  Rili(/ionsphilo.<tophie, 
Berlin,  1878;  and  especially  tlie  fifth  volume  of  K.  Fischer's  Historit 
of  Philosophy.  —  Tk.]. 

2  \_The  Vocation  of  Man,  translated  l>y  Smith,  supra.  —  Tit.] 

•  \_The  Nature  of  the  Scholar,  tr.  by  Smith,  .ittpra.  — Th.] 

*  [Tr.  by  Smith  (o.c.)  under  the  title.  The  Doctrine  of  Religion.  Til.] 


482  -  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

deiUsche  Nation  (1808) ;  etc.    The  German  uprising  against 
Napoleon  was  largely  due  to  his  influence. 

Though  his  thought,  like  tliat  of  so  many  contemporary 
Germans  of  the  Republic  and  the  Empire,  showed  two  dis- 
tinct phases :  one,  rationalistic,  humanitarian,  and  in  sym^ 
pathy  with  the  Revolution,  the  other,  mystical,  pantheistic, 
and  patriotic;  the  central  notion  of  his  system  remained 
the  same.  This  concei^tion,  or,  let  us  rather  say,  this  truth, 
the  most  exalted  and  at  the  same  time  the  most  paradoxical 
ever  formulated  by  pliilosophy,  is  the  inonism  of  the  moral 

vAll.^ 

Fichte  is  to  Kant  what  Euclid-Plato  is  to  Socrates,  and 
to  Spinoza  what  Euclid-Plato  is  to  Parmenides.  With  Kant 
he  affirms  the  moral  ideal,  and  with  Spinoza,  the  unity  of  the 
"  two  worlds."  Hence  his  pliilosophy  is  a  synthesis,  unique 
in  its  kind  for  modern  times,  of  what  seemed  forever 
irreconcilable :  monism  and  liberty.  Identity  of  the  ethical 
principle  and  the  metaphysical  principle :  that  is  the  funda- 
mental dogma  of  his  system.  The  real  reality  is,  according 
to  Fichte,  the  Good,  active  Reason,  pure  Will,  the  moral 
Ego.  What  the  common  mind  regards  as  real  is  nothing 
but  a  phenomenon,  a  manifestation,  a  faithful  or  imperfect 
translation,  a  portrait  or  a  caricature.  The  ultimate  and 
highest  principle  from  which  we  come  and  towards  which 
we  strive  is  not  leing  but  dutij  ;  it  is  an  ideal  which  is  not, 
but  which  ought  to  be.  Being  as  such  has  no  value,  and 
does  not,  strictly  speaking,  exist.  The  stability  or  immo- 
bility of  what  we  call  substance,  substratum,  or  matter,  is  a 
mere  appearance  (Heraclitus  and  Plato).  It  is  all  move- 
ment, tendency,  and  will.     The  universe  is  the  manifesta- 

1  Although  we  recognize  the  truth  of  the  central  thought  of  FicMe's 
philosophy,  we  cannot  accept  his  theory  of  the  absolute  ego,  which 
Schelling  refuted,  nor,  particularly,  his  method  of  a  priori  construc- 
tion, which  rests  on  a  confusion  of  the  will  and  the  understanding, 
common  to  most  of  the  thinkers  prior  to  Schopenhauer. 


rlCHTE  483 

tioii  of  pure  Will,  the  S3aiibol  of  the  moral  Idea,  which  is 
the  real  thing-i)i-itself,  the  real  absolute.^  To  philosophize 
is  to  convince  one's  self  that  being  is  nothing.^  that  clutg  is 
everything  ;  it  is  to  recognize  the  inanity  of  the  phenomenal 
world  apart  from  its  intelligible  essence  ;  it  is  to  regard  the 
objective  world,  not  as  the  effect  of  causes  foreign  to  our 
practical  reason,  but  as  the  product  of  the  ego,  as  the  objec- 
tified ego.  There  is  no  science  except  the  science  of  the  ego 
or  consciousness.  Knowledge  is  neither  in  whole  (Hume, 
Condillac)  nor  in  part  (Kant)  the  product  of  sensation ;  it 
is  the  exclusive  work,  the  creation.,  of  the  ego.  There  is 
no  philosophy  but  idealism,  no  method  but  the  a  i^riori 
method.  Philosophy  does  not  discover  ready-made  truths, 
or  establish  facts  that  already  exist.  To  philosophize,  or  to 
know,  is  to  produce  such  facts,  to  create  such  truths.^ 

Speculative  thought  does  not  begin  with  a  fact,  with 
something  received  or  suffered  by  the  ego,  but  with  a  spon- 
taneous act  of  its  creative  energy  {nicht  Thatsache,  sondern 
Th a th a ndlung ^).  Its  theses  result  from  a  regular  succession 
of  intellectual  acts,  which  follow  the  law  of  opposition  and 
reconciliation,  foreshadowed  by  Kant  in  his  threefold  divi- 
sion of  the  categories  (affirmation,  negation,  and  limitation). 
The  original  act  of  the  understanding,  and  every  intellect- 
ual act  in  general,  is  threefold :  (1)  The  ego  posits  itself ; 
this  is  the  act  by  which  the  ego  takes  possession  of  itself, 
or  rather,  the  act  l)y  which  it  creates  itself  (for  to  take  pos- 
session would  presuppose  an  ego  existing  prior  to  the  ego, 
or  a  given  fact) ;  (2)  A  non-ego  is  opposed  to  the  ego,  or  the 
ego  is  negated;  (3)  The  ego  and  tlie  non-ego  reciprocally 
limit  each  other. 

As  tlie  essential  elements  of  one  and  the  same  concrete 
reality,  these  three  original  acts  (thesis  of  th(»  ego,  antilJirsis 
of  the  non-ego,  and  sgntliesis  of  the  ego  and  non-ego)  form 
but  a  single  act.     By  affirming  itself  as  a  sul)jcct,  the  ego 

1   Complete  Works,  II.,  p.  0.07.  ^   /,/.^  \-.^  j,,,    ;],sl  ff. 

8   hi..  l.,Ul  if. 


484  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

distinguishes  itself  from  an  oliject  which  is  not  the  ego ;  in 
producing  itself,  it  at  the  same  time  produces  its  opposite, 
its  limitation :  the  objective  world.  The  latter  is  not,  as 
"common  sense"  and  empiricism  claim,  an  obstacle  which 
the  ego  encounters  ;  it  is  a  limitation  which  it  gives  to  itself. 
The  sensible  world  has  the  appearance  of  something  exist- 
ing outside  of  the  perceiving  and  thinking  subject.  It  is 
an  illusion  which  Kant  himself  could  not  wholly  destroy. 
The  limitation  of  the  ego,  the  objective  world,  exists,  but 
it  owes  its  existence  to  the  activity  of  the  subject.  SuiJipress 
the  Ego,  and  yon  suppress  the  world.  Creation  is  reason 
limiting  itself ;  it  is  the  will  or  pure  thought,  limiting,  de- 
termining, or  making  a  person  of  itself.^ 

However,  Fichte  is  obliged  to  confess,  the  ego  limits 
itself  by  an  inner  necessity,  which  it  cannot  escape  through 
thought  alone  :  for  it  cannot  think  without  thinking  an 
object ;  it  cannot  perceive  without  affirming  the  existence 
of  something  which  is  not  itself.  Fichte  recognizes  with 
Kant,  that  the  thing-in-itself  cannot  actually  be  reduced 
to  thought,  but  he  nevertheless  maintains,  in  principle,  that 
the  thing-in-itsclf  is  merely  the  thinking  principle  itself. 
The  dualism  of  the  thinking  sul^ject  and  the  thouglit  object 
is  an  inevitable  illusion  of  theoretical  reason,  from  which, 
considering  the  infirmity  of  thought,  action  can  and  must 
free  us.  Hence,  practical  activity  is  the  real  triumj^h  of 
reason,  the  affirmation  of  its  omnipotence.  True,  in  reality, 
the  will  is  no  more  successful  than  the  understandina:  in 
completely  conquering  the  resistance  of  matter;  in  the 
phenomenal  world,  in  which  thought  holds  us  captive,  we 
cannot  entirely  escape  the  determinism  of  facts,  or  fatalism. 
The  absolute  autonomy  of  reason  is  an  ideal  which  the  ego 
pursues,  but  never  attains.  But  this  very  conflict  between 
the  empirical  and  ideal  reality  proves  that  we  are  destined 

1  Complete  Works,  T.,  pp.  83  fp. ;  V.,  210. 


FICHTE  485 

for  an  immortal  lot :  it  is  the  source  of  our  progress,  the 
moving  principle  in  history.^ 

Fichte  thus  confirms  the  "  primacy  of  practical  reason," 
proclaimed  by  Kant.  Moreover,  he  endeavors  to  insert  this 
essential  doctrine,  which  had  been  mechanically  added  to 
the  Kantian  system,  into  the  very  body  of  his  [)hilosophy. 

Freedom  is  the  highest  principle,  the  essence  of  things.^ 
It  is  even  superior  to  truth,  considered  from  the  purely 
theoretical  standpoint,  or  rather,  it  is  the  highest  Truth. 
For  that  very  reason  it  is  not  an  abstraction,  but  the  supreme 
reality.  But  this  reality,  the  source  of  all  other  realities,  pre- 
cisely because  it  is  freedom,  cannot  be  an  empirical  datum, 
an  immediate,  brutal,  and  fatal  fact.  If  freedom  were  given, 
or  made,  or  produced,  as  the  facts  of  the  physical  order  are 
produced,  it  would  not  be  freedom.  True  freedom  is  the 
freedom  which  creates  itself,  or  realizes  itself.  Self-realiza- 
tion means  self-development  in  a  series  of  stages,  or  entrance 
into  the  conditions  of  duration  and  time.  Now  time,  like 
space,  is  an  a  priori  intuition  of  theoretical  reason,  a  form 
of  the  understanding;  time  is  the  intuitive  faculty  itself, 
or  the  understanding  exercising  its  elementary  and  original 
function.  And  since  it  is,  as  we  have  just  seen,  the  neces- 
sary instrument  of  freedom,  we  conclude  that  the  under- 
standing, the  theoretical  reason,  the  faculty  which  divides 
the  ego  into  subject  and  object,  is  the  auxiliary  of  practical 
reason,  the  organ  of  the  will,  the  servant  of  freedom. 

Again :  Freedom  realizes  itself  in  time ;  time  is  its 
means,  its  indispensable  auxiliary.  But  time  is  the  intui- 
tive faculty  itself,  the  theoretical  reason  pci-ceiving  things 
successively/.  Theoretical  reason,  or  the  understanding,  is 
therefore  the  means,  the  organ,  which  practical  rt'ason  em- 
ploys to  realize  itself.  Instead  of  being,  as  Kant  seemed 
to  conceive  it,  a   power   foreign  and   therefore   iiostile  to 

'  Die  f,'riiiiill(t>ip.  (les  Nalunechtu  {^Complete  ir</;7.>',  III.), 
a   Works,  I.,  489. 


486  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

practical  reason,  theoretical  reason  thus  naturally  and  neces- 
sarily becomes  subject  to  the  will ;  it  humbly  enters  the 
service  of  the  moral  ideal.  The  dualism  of  the  "two 
reasons "  disappears ;  the  understandhuj  smiidy  becomes  a 
phase  in  the  development  of  Freedom  ; '  knowledge  is  a 
means,  a  secondary  thing ;  action  is  the  principle  and  final 
goal  of  being.  The  non-ego  is,  in  the  language  of  Aristotle, 
the  matter  which  the  form  needs  in  order  to  realize  itself 
as  supreme  energy ;  it  is  the  limit  which  the  ego  sets  itself 
in  order  to  overcome  it,  and  thus  to  realize  its  essence, 
freedom.  Self-assertion  or  self-realization  means  struggle  ; 
struggle  presupposes  an  obstacle ;  this  obstacle  is  the  phe- 
nomenal world,  tlie  world  of  sense  and  its  temptations.^ 

Liberty,  we  said,  realizes  itself  in  time  and  by  means  of 
thought,  i.  e.,  by  distinguishing  between  a  subject  which 
perceives  and  thinks,  and  an  object  which  is  perceived  and 
thought.  But  this  object,  which  the  magician  Reason  shows 
to  the  ego,  the  external  world,  the  non-ego,  is  in  turn  com- 
posed of  a  multitude  of  egos,  of  personalities  apart  from 
mine.  Hence,  freedom  does  not  realize  itself  in  the  separate 
individual  (the  empirical  ego),  but  in  human  society.  In 
order  to  become  a  reality,  the  ideal  ego  divides  itself  into  a 
plurality  of  historical  subjects,  and  realizes  itself  in  the 
moral  relations  established  between  them,  and  these  rela- 
tions are  the  source  of  natural,  penal,  and  political  rights. 

Considered  apart  from  the  individuals  which  realize  it, 
the  absolute  or  ideal  ego  is  a  mere  abstraction.^  The  real 
God  is  a  living  God,  or  the  God-man.  "  I  abhor  all  reli- 
gious conceptions,"  says  Fichte,  "  which  personify  God,  and 
regard  them  as  unworthy  of  a  reasonable  being."  And 
why?      Because  a  personal  being,  or  a  subject,  does  not 

1  Read  tuill,  and  you  have,  word  for  word,  the  teaching  of  Schopen- 
hauer minus  his  pessimism. 

2  Works,  Y.,  210. 

8  Kritlk  aller  Offenharung,  {Works,  V,). 


SCHELLIXG  487 

exist  without  an  object  that  limits  it.  True,  this  limitation 
is  the  work  of  the  subject  itself ;  but  Avhether  limited  by 
itself  or  by  something  else,  the  subject  is  a  limited  being, 
and  God  cannot  be  conceived  as  such.  God  is  the  moral 
order  of  the  world,  the  freedom  which  gradually  realizes 
itself  in  it :  he  is  notliing  but  that. 

Fichte's  opposition  to  the  idea  of  a  personal  God  is  the 
criticism  of  Ms  own  system,  or,  at  least,  of  the  subjectivistic 
form  which  it  assumed  under  the  influence  of  Kant,  and  of 
Avhich  it  gradually  divested  itself  under  the  influence  of 
Spinoza.  By  denying  the  personality  of  God,  he  condemns 
both  the  notion  of  an  absolute  ego,  as  the  creator  of  the 
non-ego,  and  the  method  of  a  irriori  construction. 

Schelling,  Fichte's  most  brilliant  chsciple,  turns  his  atten- 
tion to  this  contradiction. 

§  65.      Schelling  1 

Friedi-ieh  Wilhelm  Joseph  Schelling,  born  1775,  at 
Leonberg,  in  Wiirtemberg,  received  the  master's  degree 
from  the  University  of  Tlibingen,  when  seventeen  years 
old,  and  continued  his  studies  at  Leipsic.  In  1798  he  was 
made  professor  of  philosophy  at  Jena,  where  he  became 
ac(iuainted  with  Fichte  and  renewed  liis  friendship  with 
his  fellow-countryman  Hegel.  In  1803  we  find  him  at  the 
University  of  Wiirzburg;  then  he  becomes  the  General 
Secretary  of  tlie  Munich  Academy  of  Plastic  Arts  (1800- 

1  Complete  \Yorks  in  two  series,  ed.  l)y  his  son,  It  vols.,  Stiitt,i;:irt 
and  Augsburg,  185Gff.  [Engl,  translations  in  the  Journal  of  Specula- 
tice  Philosophy. "[  French  translations  :  5e/ec/ /«ns,  hy  C.  Benard  ;  Sijf- 
tern  of  Transcendental  hlralism,  by  Griml)lot ;  Bruno,  by  IIussou.  [Cf. 
Kosenkranz,  ScheWnrj,  Dantzic,  181:]];  Mignet,  Notice  hislorifjue  sur  la 
vie  et  les  traraux  de  Srhrllinf/,  Paris,  IS.'jH;  [J.  Watson,  Schelling's  Trans- 
cendental Idealism  {arififtss  Philosophical  Classics),  C'liicagn,  ISS-J.  See 
also  Will m,  o.  c,  vol.  III.;  Kuno  Kisclur.  o.  c,  vol.  V!.;  and  H. 
Ilayni,   Die  romanlixche  Srhule,  187U.  —  Tk.]. 


488  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

1820).  After  serving  as  a  professor  in  the  Universities  of 
Erlangen,  Municli,  and  Berlin,  he  died  (1854)  in  the  seventy- 
ninth  year  of  his  age.  A  precocious  and  fruitful  ^  writer, 
but  an  inconsistent  thinker,  Schelling  passed  from  Fichte 
to  Spinoza,  from  Spinoza  to  Neo-Platonism,  from  Neo-Pla- 
tonism  to  J.  Bohme,  with  whom  his  friend  and  colleague 
Franz  Baader  ^  had  made  him  acquainted.  The  following 
works  ^  belong  to  his  Spinozistic  and  Neo-Platonic  phase, 
which  he  calls  his  "  negative  philosophy  "  :  Idccn  zu  ciner 
Fhilosophie  der  Natur^  (1797}  ;  Vo7i  der  Weltsede  (1798); 
System  des  transcendentalen  Idealismiis^  (1800);  Brwno, 
Oder  ubcr  das  naturliche  und  gottliche  Princip  der  Binge 
(1802) ;  Vorlesungen  uber  die  Metliode  des  akademischen  Stu- 
diums  (1803) ;  Philosophie  und  Religion  (1804).  To  his 
"  positive  "  period,  which  is  characterized  by  the  influence 
of  Bohme  and  a  more  or  less  pronounced  tendency  to  ortho- 
doxy, belong :  JJntersuchungen  ilher  das  Wesen  der  mensch- 
lichen  Freiheit  (1809);  Ueher  die  Gottheiten  von' Samothrake 
(1816)  ;  Vorlesungen  ilher  die  Philoso2')Me  der  Mythologie 
und  Offenharvng,  published  by  his  son. 

1.  The  non-ego,  Fichte  had  said,  is  the  unconscious  pro- 
duct of  the  ego,  or,  what  amounts  to  the  same  thing,  the 
product  of  the  unconscious  ego.  But,  Schelling  objects, 
the  unconscious  ego  is  not  really  the  ego ;  what  is  uncon- 
scious is  not  yet  ego  or  subject,  but  both  subject  and  object, 
or  rather,  neither  one  nor  the  other.  Since  the  ego  does 
not  exist  without  the  non-ego,  we  cannot  say  that  it  pro- 
duces the  non-ego,  without  adding,  conversely :  the  non-ego 
produces  the  ego.  There  is  no  object  without  a  subject,  — 
as  Berkeley  had  previously  declared,  —  and  in  this  sense 
Fichte  truly  says  that  the  subject  makes  the  object ;  but 

1  At  least  during  his  earlier  stage.  ^  See  §  71. 

8  "We  mention  only  the  most  important. 

*  In  this  work  he  cuts  loose  from  Fichte. 

5  The  most  consistent  and  systematic  of  his  writings. 


SCHELLING  489 

neither  can  there  be  a  subject  without  an  object.  Hence 
the  existence  of  the  objective  Avorkl  is  as  much  the  condi- 
tion siiic  qua  noii  of  the  existence  of  the  ego,  as  conversely. 
Fichte,  who  implicitly  recognized  this  in  his  profession  of 
pantheistic  faith,  regards  the  distinction  between  the  empi- 
rical ego  and  the  absolute  ego  as  fundamental  to  liis  thought. 
But  what  right  has  he  to  speak  of  an  absolute  ego,  when  it 
is  certain  that  the  ego,  or  the  subject,  is  never  absolute,  but 
limited,  as  it  necessarily  is,  by  an  object?  Hence  we  nuist 
abandon  the  attempt  to  make  an  absolute  of  the  ego. 

Is  the  non-ego  absolute  ?  Not  at  all,  for  it  does  not  exist 
unconditionally ;  it  is  nothing  without  the  thinking  subject- 
Hence  we  must  either  deny  the  absolute  or  seek  it  hei/ond 
the  ego  and  the  non-ego^  or  beyond  all  opposition.  If  tlie 
absolute  exists,  —  and  how  can  it  be  otherwise  I  —  it  can 
merely  be  the  synthesis  of  all  contraries,  it  can  only  be  out- 
side of  and  beyond  all  conditions  of  existence,^  since  it  is 
itself  the  highest  and  fu-st  condition,  the  source  and  end 
of  all  subjective  as  well  as  of  all  objective  existence. 

Consequent!}',  we  can  neither  say  that  the  ego  produces 
the  non-ego  (su])jective  idealism),  nor  that  the  non-ego  pro- 
duces the  ego  (sensationalism)  ;  the  ego  and  the  7ion-€go, 
thought  and  being,  are  both  derived  from  a  higher  principle 
which  is  neither  one  nor  the  other,  although  it  is  the  cause  of 
both :  a  neutral  principle,  the  indifference  and  identity  of 
contraries.2  This  brings  us  to  SjDinoza's  i)oint  of  view ; 
though  different  terms  are  used,  we  find  ourselves  face  to 
face  with  the  infinite  sid)stance  and  tlie  parallelism  of  tilings 
emanating  from  it:  tliouglit  (the  ego)  and  extension  (tlie 
non-ego). 

Philosophy  is  the  science  of  the  absolute  in  its  double 
manifestation  :  nature  and  mind.  It  is  philosophy  of  nature 
and  transcendental  pliilosophy.  or  pliilosojiliy  of  mind.  \\\ 
adding  the  science  of  nature  to  the  science  of  mind.  Schcl 

1  Cf.  §§  2o  aiul  :{1.  2  ]Vor/:s,  first  series,  V(j1.  X.,  pp.  U-J-[),i. 


490  MODEEN  PHILOSOPHY 

ling  fills  the  great  gap  in  Fichte's  system.  His  method 
does  not  essentially  differ  from  that  of  liis  predecessor. 
Schelling,  it  is  true,  recognizes  that  the  universe  is  not, 
strictly  speaking,  the  creation  of  the  ego,  and,  consequent- 
ly, has  an  existence  relatively  distinct  from  the  thinking- 
subject.  To  think  is  not  to  produce,  but  to  reproduce,. 
Nature  is,  according  to  him,  what  it  is  not  for  Fichte :  a 
datum  or  a  fact.  He  cannot,  therefore,  escape  the  necessity 
of  partially  recognizing  experience  and  observation;  he 
even  goes  so  far  as  to  call  them  the  source  of  knowledge. 

But,  the  reader  will  please  observe,  though  Schelling 
denies  that  the  ego  makes  the  non-ego,  he  denies,  with 
equal  emphasis,  that  the  non-ego  makes  the  ego,  that  sense- 
perception  constitutes  thought  (Locke,  Hume,  Condillac). 
Thought,  knowledge,  science,  cannot  be  derived  from  the 
non-ego  and  outer  or  inner  perception;  they  have  their 
source  and  principle  in  that  which  also  constitutes  the  source 
and  principle  of  the  non-ego,  in  the  absolute.  Experience 
is  but  the  starting-point  of  speculation,  the  point  of  cle- 
fcirture  in  the  literal  sense  of  the  term:  a  2^riuri  specula- 
tion continues  to  be  the  philosopliical  method.  Speculation 
operates  with  the  facts  of  experience,  but  these  facts  cannot 
contradict  a  priori  thought ;  they  must,  therefore,  conform 
to  its  laws,  because  the  world  of  facts  (the  real  order)  and 
the  world  of  thoughts  (the  ideal  order)  have  a  common 
source,  the  aljsolute,  and  cannot  contradict  each  other. 
Nature  is  existinrj  reason,  mind  is  thinking  reason.  Thought 
must  accustom  itself  to  separating  the  notion  of  reason  from 
the  idea  of  mind;  it  must  conceive  an  impersonal  reason, 
and  no  longer  regard  this  formula  as  a  contradiction  in 
terms.  We  must  conceive  the  substance  of  Spinoza  as 
impersonal  reason  embracing  the  ego  and  the  non-ego ;  we 
must  look  upon  things  as  the  images  of  thought,  and 
thought  as  the  twin  brother  of  things.  There  is  a  thorough- 
going parallelism  between  nature  and  thought,  and  they 


SCHELLING  491 

have  a  common  origin:  the  one  develops  according  to  the 
same  law  as  the  othcr.^ 

Thought,  as  Fichte,  inspired  by  Kant,  had  said,  is  inva- 
riably thesis,  antithesis,  and  synthesis.      Natui-e,  the  image 
of  thought,  is  (1)  matter  or  gravity  (thesis  :  brutal  allirma- 
tion  of  matter)  ;   (2)  form  or  light  (antithesis  :  negation  of 
matter,  principle  of  organization  and  individuation,  ideal 
principle) ;  (3)  organized  matter  (synthesis  of  matter  and 
form).     The  three  stages  of  material  evolution  are  not  sep- 
arated in  nature  ;  no  more  so  than  the  tlu-ee  original  acts  of 
thought.     The  whole  of   nature   is  organized  even  in  its 
smallest  details  (Leibniz),  and  the  so-called  inorganic  world, 
the  earth  itself,  and  the  heavenly  bodies,  are  living  organ- 
isms.    If  natui-e  were  not  alive,  it  could  not  produce  life. 
The  so-called  inorganic  kingdom  is  the  vegetable  kingdom  in 
germ ;  the  animal  kingdom  is  the  vegetable  kingdom  raised 
to  a  liigher  power.     The  human  brain  is  the  climax  of  uni- 
versal organization,  the  last  stage  of  organic  evolution.^ 
J»lagnetism,  electricity,  irritability,  and  sensibility  are  mani- 
festations of  the  same  force,  in  different  degrees  (correlation 
and  equivalence  of  forces).     Nothing  is  dead,  nothing  is 
stationary^  in  nature;  every^thing  is  hfe,  movement,  becoming, 
perpetual  oscillation  between  two  extremes,  productivity^ 
and  product,  polarity  (electricity,  magnetism,  and  intellectr 
ual  life),  expansion  and  contraction,  action  and  reaction, 
struggle    between  two   contrary  and  (at  tlie  same  time) 
correlative  principles,*  the  synthesis  of  wliicli  is  the  soul  of 

the  world.^ 

The  pliilosophy  of  mind  or  transeeiKlciilal  iiliilosopby '^ 
has  for  its  subject-matter  tlie  evolution  of  psychical  life,  the 
genesis  of  the  ego,  and  aims  to  demonstrate  the  parallelism 
of  tlie  physical  and  moral  oiders. 

1   Workx,  TV.,  pp.  105  ff.  *  r.ionlaiio  Bruno. 

•  The  Wille  of  .Scliop(;iili:ui«r.  *  'I'li"  ■nn\f(xo<:  of  Ilcnicliliis 

«  I'hito  uii.l  the  Sloici.  •   Wurks,  III.,  pp.  327  IT. 


492  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

The  stages  in  the  evolution  of  mind  are  :  sensation,  outer 
and  inner  perception  (by  means  of  the  a  priori  intuitions 
and  the  categories),  and  rational  abstraction.  Sensation, 
perception,  and  abstraction  constitute  the  theoretical  ego, 
the  different  degrees  of  the  understanding.  Through  abso- 
lute abstraction,  i.  e.,  the  absolute  distinction  which  the  in- 
telligence draws  between  itself  and  what  it  produces,  tlie 
understanding  becomes  will :  the  theoretical  ego  becomes 
the  practical  ego.  Like  magnetism  and  the  principle  of 
sensibility,  intelligence  and  will  are  different  degrees  of  the 
same  tiring.^  They  are  merged  in  the  notion  of  i^ruductivity^ 
or  creative  activity.  The  intellect  is  creative  without 
knowing  it ;  its  productivity  is  unconscious  and  necessary ; 
will  is  conscious  of  itself ;  it  produces  with  the  conscious- 
ness of  being  the  source  of  what  it  produces  :  hence  the 
feeling  of  freedom  accompanying  its  manifestations. 

Just  as  life  in  nature  is  the  result  of  two  contrary  forces, 
so  the  life  of  the  mind  springs  from  the  reciprocal  action 
of  the  intellect,  which  posits  the  non-ego,  and  of  the  will, 
which  overcomes  it.  These  are  not  new  forces  ;  they  are 
the  same  forces  which,  after  having  been  gravity  and  light, 
magnetism  and  electricity,  irritability  and  sensibility,  mani- 
fest themselves,  in  the  sphere  of  mind,  as  intelligence  and 
will.  Their  antagonism  constitutes  the  life  of  the  race : 
history. 

History  unfolds  itself  in  three  ages  which  run  parallel 
with  the  three  stages  of  organic  evolution,  corresponding 
to  the  three  kingdoms.  The  primitive  age  is  characterized 
by  the  predominance  of  the  fatalistic  element  (thesis : 
matter,  gravity,  intelligence  without  will) ;  the  second, 
which  was  inaugurated  by  the  Roman  people  and  still  con- 
tinues, is  the  reaction  of  the  active  and  voluntary  element 
against  the  ancient /«^?6»i ;  the  third,  finally,  which  belongs 
to  the  future,  will  be  the  synthesis  of  these  two  principles. 
1  Spinoza  and  Fichte. 


SCHELLING  493 

Mind  and  nature  will  gradually  be  blended  into  a  liarnio- 
nious  and  living  unity.  The  idea  will  become  more  and 
more  real ;  reality  will  become  more  and  more  ideal.  In 
other  words :  the  absolute,  which  is  the  identity  of  the  ideal 
and  the  real,  will  manifest  and  realize  itself  more  and  more. 

However,  as  history  is  developed  in  time,  and  as  time 
has  no  limits,  history  necessarily  consists  in  infinite  progress, 
and  the  realized  absolute  remains  an  ideal  which  cannot 
be  definitively  and  completely  realized.  Hence  if  the  ego 
were  merely  theoretical  and  practical,  it  could  never  realize 
the  absolute ;  for,  reflection  as  well  as  action  is  necessarily 
subject  to  the  law  of  the  dualism  of  subject  and  object,  of 
the  ideal  and  the  real.  Thought,  it  is  true,  can  and  nuist 
rise  beyond  reflection  and  its  dualism ;  tlirough  the  intellect- 
ual intuition  ^  we  deny  tlie  dualism  of  the  ideal  and  the  real, 
we  afhrm  that  the  ego  and  the  non-ego  s})iing  from  a  higher 
unity  in  which  all  antitheses  are  blended;  we  rise,  in  a 
measure,  beyond  personal  thought  and  ourselves  ;  we  iden 
tify  ourselves  with  impersonal  reason,  which  becomes 
objectified  in  the  world  and  is  personified  in  the  ego.  In  a 
word,  we  partially  return  into  the  absolute  whence  we  came. 

But  even  this  intuition  cannot  completely  free  itself  from 
the  law  of  opposition ;  consequently  it  is  still  a  polarity, 
forming,  on  the  one  hand,  a  perceiving  subject,  on  the 
other,  an  object  perceived  from  without.  The  ego  is  on 
one  side,  (lod  on  the  other;  the  dualism  continues;  tin- 
absolute  is  not  a  reality  possessed  or  assimilated  by  the 
mind.  The  mind  does  not  attain  or  I'calize  the  al)soliit(', 
either  as  intelligenci!  or  action,  but  as  tlie  feeling  of  tlie 
beautiful  in  nature  and  in  art.'-  Ait,  religion,  iind  revela- 
tion are  one  and  tlie  same  thing,  suju'rior  even  to  jihilosophy. 
Philosophy  co'/ir-cms  God;  art /.s  (!od.  Kiiowledgi'  is  the 
ideal  presence,  art  the  real  presence  of  the  Deity.^ 

1  riat<i,  I'loliiius,  Si.  Augu.stiiK-,  iiii<I  tli.'  Mystics. 

a  Kant.  °  Nco-riatoiiisin. 


494  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

2.  Sclielling's  "positive"  philosophy,  inauguratecl  in 
1809  by  the  dissertation  on  human  freedom,  accentuates 
the  mystical  element  contained  in  the  foregoing  sentences. 
Under  the  inlluence  of  Bohme,  the  philosopher  becomes  a 
theosophist ;  the  pantheist,  a  monotheist.  He  insists  on 
the  reality  of  the  divine  idea,  on  the  personality  of  God,  on 
the  cardinal  importance  of  the  Trinity.  However,  when 
we  peer  beneath  the  strange  forms  enveloping  his  romanti- 
cism, we  find  that  there  is  less  change  in  the  essence  of  his 
thought  tlian  one  would  suppose ;  this  essence  is  monism, 
a  form  of  monism,  however,  which,  under  the  influence  of 
Bbhme,  is  clearly  defined  as  voluntarism}  The  absolute, 
the  absolute  indifference  or  identity,  of  "  negative  "  philo- 
sophy exists,  but  it  now  receives  the  name  applied  to  it  by 
the  Saxon  theosophist :  primitive  will  {ungruncllicher  Wille). 
The  foundation  or  first  principle  of  the  divine  being,  and  of 
all  being,  is  not  thought  or  reason,  but  will  striving  for 
being  and  individual  and  personal  existence,  or  the  desire- 
to-he.  Before  being  (ex-istere'),  every  being,  God  included, 
desires  to  be.  This  desire  or  unconscious  will  precedes  all 
intelligence  and  all  conscious  will.  For  God,  the  evolution 
by  which  he  realizes  himself,  personifies  himself,  or  makes 
himself  God,  is  eternal,  and  the  stages  thi'ough  which  this 
evolution  passes  (the  persons  or  hypostases  of  the  Trinity) 
are   merged  into  each  other;    but  they  are  cUstinguished 

1  The  voluntaristic  conception  is,  it  is  true,  abeady  found  in  the 
Abhcmdlungen  zur  Erlduterung  dea  Idealismiis  der  WissenscTiaftslehre, 
published  by  Schelling  in  the  PJdlosopJiisches  Journal  (1796  and  1797), 
as  well  as  in  numerous  passages  in  Fichte,  whose  philosophy  is  entirely 
impregnated  with  it.  But  he  clearly  and  consciously  affirms  the  prin- 
ciple in  his  treatise  on  liberty :  Es  giebt  in  der  leizten  und  hochsten  In- 
stanz  gar  kein  anderes  Sein  als  WoUe7i.  Wollen  ist  Ursein,  und  avf  dieses 
allein  passen  alle  Pradikate  desselhen :  Grundlosigkcit,  Eicigkeit,  Unah- 
Tidngigkeit  von  der  Zeit,  Selhsthejnhung.  Die  ganze  Philosophie  streht  nur 
dahin,  diesen  hochsten  Ausdruck  zu  finden.  (  Works,  first  series,  vol.  VII 
p.  350.) 


SCHELLING  405 

from  each  other  in  the  human  consciousness,  appearing 
successively  and  forming-  stages  in  the  rehgious  develop- 
ment of  humanity.  The  evil  in  the  M-orld  has  its  source, 
not  in  God  considered  as  a  person,  but  in  what  precedes  his 
personality,  in  that  wliich,  in  God,  is  not  God  himself,  i.  e., 
in  the  desidcrium  essemli  wlrich  we  have  just  recognized  as 
the  first  cause  of  all  things,  and  which  Schelling  does  not 
hesitate  to  call  the  divine  egoism.  In  God,  this  principle 
is  eternally  merged  in  his  love;  in  man,  it  becomes  an 
independent  principle  and  the  source  of  moral  evil.  But 
however  great  the  latter  may  be,  it  serves  the  purposes  of 
the  absolute,  no  less  than  the  good. 

We  shall  not  here  consider  the  jJiilosoph^  of  mytholoiji/ 
and  revelation,  which  we  have  set  forth  in  another  work,^ 
and  which  interests  the  historian  of  religion  rather  than  the 
historian  of  philosophy.  Our  main  purpose  was  to  outline 
the  contents  of  the  principal  treatises  written  by  Schelling 
from  1795  to  1800,  and  to  elucidate :  (1)  his  masterly 
critique  of  Ficliie' a  cfjoism  {Iclikhre)  ;  (2)  his  conception  of 
the  absolute  as  will,  the  common  ground  of  the  object  and 
subject  (Kant),  of  the  ego  and  non-ego  (Fichte),  of  thought 
and  extension  (Spinoza);  (3)  his  pliilosophy  of  nature, 
which,  though  abandoned  by  positive  science,  produced 
such  naturalists  as  Burdach,  Oken,  Carus,  Oei-sted,  Steffens, 
G.  H.  Schubert,  and,  by  carrying  speculation  into  a  lield 
from  which  ideological  investigations  had  banislicd  it,  pre- 
pared the  way  for  the  fusion  of  metaphysics  and  science, 
which  we  are  now  endeavoring  to  bring  about;  (4)  his 
philosophy  of  liistory,  a  liappy  prelude  to  Hegel's  philoso- 
phy of  mind. 

The  philosophy  of   Schelling,   the   influence  of    whit-h 
was  partially  counteracted  and  obscured  l)y  tlie  Ilcgeliau 

»  Exumen  crilujw:  dc  la  j>hilosoj)hie  relijleuse  de  Schelliug,  Strasluirg. 
ISUU. 


49(3  MODERN   PHILOSOPHY 

school,!  i-eally  consists  of  two  very  distinct  systems,  which 
are  connected  by  a  common  principle :  ^  according  to  the 
hrst,  which  forms  its  starting-point,  thought  precedes  being 
(idealism)  ;  according  to  the  second,  (potential)  being  is 
the  antecedent  of  thought  (realism).  Under  the  influence 
of  the  former,  he  speaks  of  intellectual  intuition  and  con- 
ceives his  TranscencUntalphilosopUe,  while  the  latter  exalts 
experience  and  the  philosophy  of  nature.  The  one  leads  to 
Heo-el  and  the  a  priori  construction  of  the  universe  and  of 
history,  the  other,  to  Schopenhauer  and  contemporaneous 
empiricism. 

§  66.     Hegel  3 

Georg  Wilhelm  Friedrich  Hegel  was  born  at  Stuttgart, 
1770,  and  died  as  a  professor  in  the  University  of  Berlin, 

1  Nevertheless,  this  influence  was  considerable.  Even  omitting 
the  disciples  properly  so-called,  we  can  detect  it  in  most  of  the  thinkers 
mentioned  in  §  71.  Observe  that  the  most  celebrated  among  contem- 
poraneous German  philosophers,  Eduard  von  Hartmann,  is  as  much  a 
disciple  of  Schelling  as  of  Schopenhauer,  and  that  the  most  original  of 
our  French  metaphysicians,  Charles  Secretan,  is  an  avowed  adherent 
of  the  "  positive  philosophy." 

2  We  noticed  the  same  dualism  in  Plotinus. 

3  Complete  works,  19  vols,  and  supplement,  containing  Hegel's 
biography  by  K.  Rosenla-anz,  Berlin,  1832-44.  The  most  important 
works  of  Hegel  have  been  translated  into  French  by  A.  Vera,  professor 
at  Naples,  who  has  also  written  an  Introduction  a  la  philosophie  de  Hegel, 
2d  ed.,  Paris,  1864.  Consult  also:  [K.  Rosenkranz,  Krltische  Erldu- 
terungen  des  hegelschen  System!^,  Konigsberg,  1840;  H.  JJlricl  Princip 
und  Methode  der  hegelschen  Philosophie,  Berlin,  1843 ;  E.  Haym,  Hegel 
und  seine  Zeit,  Berlin,  1857] ;  P.  Janet,  Etudes  snr  la  dialectique  dans 
Platan  et  dans  Hegel,  Paris,  1860;  [Foucher  de  Careil,  Hegel  et  Schopen- 
hauer, Paris,  1862] ;  E.  Scherer,  Hegel  et  Vhe'ge'lianisme  (in  his  Melanges 
d'histoire  religieuse,  2d  ed.,  Paris,  186.5) ;  J.  H.  Stirling,  The  Secret  oj 
Hegel.  The  Hegelian  System  in  Origin,  Principle,  Form,  and  Matter,  2 
vols.,  London,  1865;  [K.  Kbstlin,  Hegel,  Tubingen,  1870;  E.  Cau-d, 
Hegel  {Blackwood's  Phil.  Classics'),  l^onAon,  1883;  J.  S.  Kedney,  HegeVs 
Esthetics  (Griggs's  Series),  Chicago,  1885 ;  G.  S.  Morris,  Hegel's  Phi- 


HEGEL  497 

1831.  Like  his  friend  Sclielling,  he  attended  the  theological 
seminary  at  Tubingen.  Jena,  where  he  renewed  and  then 
dissolved  the  friendship  with  his  fellow-countryman,  who 
was  live  years  his  junior,  Xuremberg,  where  he  liad  charge 
of  the  Gymnasium,  Heidelberg,  and  the  Prussian  capital, 
mark  the  different  stages  in  his  academic  career.  We 
mention  the  following  works :  (1)  Phiinomenologie  des 
Geistes  ^  (1807)  ;  (2)  Wissenschaft  clcr  Loijih^  in  three  vol- 
umes (1812-181G) ;  (3)  Enctjdopedie  der  philosopldschen 
Wisscnschaftcn  ^  (1817) ;  (1)  Crrundiinien  der  Philosophie 
des  Rechts  *  (1821)  ;  also,  Vorlesungen  uber  die  Philosophie 
der  Geschichie,^  Vorlesungen  iiber  die  ^sthetik,^  Vorlesungen 
iiber  die  Philosophie  der  Religion^"'  Vorlesungen  iiber  die 
Geschichte  der   Philosophie,^  published  after  liis  death. 

losophy  of  the  Slate  and  of  History  {id.),  1887;  W.  T.  Harris,  Hegel' » 
Logic  {id.),  1890;  A.  Seth,  Hegelianism  and  Personality,  2d  ed.,  Edin- 
bui-gh  and  Loudon,  1893 ;  AV.  Wallace,  Prolegomena  to  the  Study  oj 
HegeVs  Philosophy  and  especially  of  his  Logic,  2d  ed.,  Clarendon  Press, 
1894.     See  also  the  works  on  Post-Kantiau  pliilosopliy.  p.  431,  note  1. 

1  [Translation  of  chs.  1,  2,  and  3  in  Journal  of  Speculative  Philo- 
sophy, vol.  II.  —  Tr.] 

2  [Vol.  11.,  tr.  by  W.  T.  Harris.  See  also  Stirling,  cited  p.  490, 
note  3.] 

8  [W.  Wallace,  The  Logic  of  Hrgrl.  Translated  fnnn  the  Encyclo- 
]  edia  of  the  Philosophical  Sciences,  2d  ed.,  Oxford,  ls!)2  ;  same  trans- 
lator. Philosophy  of  Mind,  id.,  1S94.  —  Tr.] 

*  [Selections  from  this  work  translated  hy  J.  ^f.  Sterrett,  under  the 
title.  The  Ethics  of  Hegel  (in  the  Ethical  Series),  Hostun,  1893. —  Tr.] 

6  [Philosophy  of  History,  tr.  by  J.  Sibree,  Bolni's  Library,  18G0.  — 
Tk.] 

8  [Introduction  to  the  Philosophy  of  Art.  tr.  by  B.  Bosanqnet,  Lon- 
don, 1«80  ;  Phil,  of  Art,  abridged  tr.  l>y  W.  Ilastie  ;  tr.  of  second  part 
by  W.  Bryant  in  Journal  of  Speculative  Philosophy, \.-\ll.,  XI.-XIII. 
-Tr.] 

7  [Part.  tr.  in  Journal  of  Spec.  J'hil.,  vols.  XV.-XXI.  — '1  R.] 

8  [History  of  Philosophy,  tr.  by  K.  S.  Ilaldane,  3  vols,  London, 
lH92  fT.  ;  parts  Ir.  in  Journal  of  Spec.  Phil.,  vols.  IV  ,  V.,  XIII.,  XX, 
-Tb.J 


498  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

According  to  Fichte,  the  thlng-in-itself  (the  iibsolute)  is 
the  ego  itself,  which  produces  tlie  phenomenal  world  by  an 
unconscious  and  involuntary  creation,  and  then  overcomes 
it  by  a  free  and  conscious  effort.  According  to  Sclielling, 
the  absolute  is  neither  the  ego  nor  the  non-ego,  but  their 
common  root,  in  which  the  opposition  between  a  thinking 
subject  and  a  thought  object  cUsappears  in  a  perfect  indif- 
ference ;  it  is  the  neutral  principle,  anterior  and  superior  to 
all  contrasts,  the  identity  of  contraries.  Fichte's  absolute 
is  one  of  the  terms  of  the  opposition,  that  of  Sclielling  is 
the  transcendent,  mysterious,  impenetrable  source  of  the 
same.  Fichte's  conception  errs  in  reducing  the  absolute 
to  what  is  but  one  of  its  aspects :  the  absolute  of  Fichte 
is  the  ego  limited  by  a  theoretically  inexplicable  non-ego ; 
it  is  a  prisoner,  it  is  not  really  the  absolute.  Schelling's 
absolute  is  a  transcendent  entity,  which  does  not  explain 
anything,  since  we  do  not  know  either  how  or  why  to 
deduce  from  it  the  oppositions  constituting  the  real  world. 
The  absolute  indifference,  far  from  being  the  highest  and 
most  concrete  reality,  is,  at  bottom,  nothing  but  an  ab- 
straction. 

According  to  Hegel,  the  common  source  of  the  ego  and 
of  nature  does  not  transcend  reality ;  it  is  immanent  in  it. 
Mind  and  nature  are  not  aspects  of  the  absolute,  or  a  kind 
of  screen,  behind  which  an  indifferent  and  lifeless  God  lies 
concealed,  but  its  successive  modes.  The  absolute  is  not 
immova])le,  l)ut  active ;  it  is  not  the  j)rinciple  of  nature  and 
of  mind,  but  is  itself  successively  nature  and  mind.  This 
succession,  this  process,  this  perpetual  generation  of  things, 
is  the  absolute  itself.  In  Schelling,  things  proceed  from  the 
absolute,  which,  for  that  very  reason,  remains  outside  of 
them.  In  Hegel,  the  absolute  is  the  process  itself ;  it  does 
not  produce  movement  and  life,  it  is  movement  and  life. 
It  does  not  exceed  the  things,  but  is  wholly  in  them ;  nor 
does  it,  in  any  wa}^,  exceed  the  intellectual  capacity  of  man. 


HEGEL  499 

If  we  mean  by  God  the  being  transcending  human  reason^ 
then  Hegel  is  the  most  atheistic  of  philosophers,  since  no 
one  is  more  emphatic  in  affirming  the  immanency  and 
perfect  knowableness  of  the  absolute.  Spinoza  himself, 
the  pliilosopher  of  immane^icy^  does  not  seem  to  go  so  far; 
for,  although  he  concedes  that  the  intellect  has  an  adequate 
idea  of  God,  he  assumes  that  the  Substance  has  infinite 
attributes. 

While  modifying  the  Schellingian  idea  of  the  absolute, 
Hegel  at  the  same  time  subjects  the  extravagant  imagina- 
tion of  his  friend  to  a  merciless  intellectual  discipline.  In 
order  to  arrive  at  a  knowledge  of  the  principle  and  logical 
connection  of  things,  we  must,  of  course,  think,  but  we 
must  think  logically  and  methodically.  Only  on  that  con- 
chtion  will  the  result  tally  with  that  of  infinite  thought  in 
nature  and  history.  The  absolute,  let  us  say,  is  movement, 
process,  evolution.  This  movement  has  its  law  and  its  goal. 
Its  law  and  its  goal  are  not  imposed  upon  the  absolute  from 
without ;  they  are  immanent  in  it,  they  are  the  absolute  it- 
self. Now  the  law  which  governs  both  human  thought 
and  unconscious  nature  is  reason  ;  the  end  at  wliich  things 
aim  is,  likewise,  reason,  but  self-conscious  reason.  Hence 
the  terms  absolute  and  reason  are  synonymous.  The  abso- 
lute is  reason,  wliich  becomes  personified  in  man,  after  pass- 
ing tlu-ough  the  successive  stages  of  inorganic  and  living 
nature. 

But  reason  is  not,  as  Kant  conceives  it,  the  luiman  under- 
standing, a  faculty  of  the  soul,  a  coml)ination  of  principles, 
forms,  or  rules  according  to  which  we  think  things.  It  is 
the  law  according  to  which  being  is  produced,  constituted, 
or  unfolded ;  or  rather,  it  is  botli  a  subjective  faculty  and 
an  oljjective  reality :  it  is  in  me  as  the  essence  and  norm  of 
my  thouglit,  and  it  is  in  the  things  as  the  essence  and  law  of 
their  evolution.  It  foUows  that  its  categoiics  liave  a  nuich 
greater  siguiHcancc!  than  Kanlianism  supposiMl,     They  aro 


nOO  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

not  only  modes  of  tJiiuJdni/  thing's;  tliey  are  the  modes  of 
being  of  the  things  themselves.  They  are  not  empty  frames, 
which  receive  their  contents  from  without ;  they  are  sub- 
stantial forms,  as  the  Middle  Ages  used  to  say ;  they  give 
themselves  their  own  content ;  they  are  creative  acts  of 
divine  and  human  reason.  They  are  both  the  forms  which 
mould  my  thought  and  the  stages  of  eternal  creation. ^ 

Hence  it  is  of  essential  importance  to  metaphysics  that 
we  make  a  more  thorough  study  of  the  categories,  their 
nature  and,  above  all,  their  connection.  Kant  had  already 
observed  that  the  categories  are  not  separate  from  and  in- 
different to  each  other,  ranged  alongside  of  each  other  in 
our  intelligence  like  drawers  in  a  piece  of  furniture,  but 
intimately  connected  with  each  other.  They  are,  in  short, 
nothing  but  transformations  of  one  and  the  same  funda- 
mental category,  the  idea  of  being.  Hence  it  will  not  suf- 
fice to  discuss  them  at  random ;  we  must  consider  them  in 
their  connection,  surprise  them,  as  it  were,  in  the  very 
act  of  their  mutual  production.  Kant  saw  the  impor- 
tance of  such  an  a  priori  deduction  of  the  categories,  and 
attempted  it,  but  his  deduction  is,  in  reality,  a  merely  em- 
pirical enumeration  (incomplete  at  that)  of  pure  concepts. 
We  must  return  to  Kant's  notion,  but  we  must  substitute 
for  his  table  of  categories  a  real  deduction,  a  true  genealo- 
gical table. 

This  is  the  most  exalted  and  withal  the  most  arduous 
task  of  metaphysics.  In  order  to  succeed  in  it,  we  must 
eradicate  our  prejudices,  all  our  sensible  ideas,  and  trust  to 
reason  alone ;  we  must  let  it  unfold  its  own  contents,  and 
do  nothing  ourselves  but  follow  it  in  its  development 
(nach-denJcen'),  or  record  its  oracles,  as  it  were,  at  the  very 
time  of  their  production.  To  leave  thought  to  itself,  to 
abandon  it  to  its  spontaneous  self-activity  {Selbstbewegung 

1  Logic,  vol.  I.,  Introduction;  Enci/clopedie  der philosophischen  Wis- 
senschoften,  Introduction. 


HEGEL  501 

des  Beyriffs)  :  that  is  the  true  pliilosophical  method,  the 
immanent  or  dialectical  method. 

The  science  which  does  all  this  is  logic,  i.  e.,  in  the  sense 
of  Hegel,  the  genealogy  of  pure  concepts.  But  since,  in  the 
panlogistic  hypothesis,  the  X6yo<i,  the  object  of  logic,  is  both 
the  principle  ^^^hich  thinks  the  things  in  us,  and  the  objec- 
tive cause  which  produces  them,  or  the  tldng-in-itself ;  the 
genealogy  of  its  concepts  is  at  the  same  time  the  genealogy 
of  the  things,  the  explanation  of  the  universe,  or  meta- 
physics. Hegel's  speculative  logic  is  both  what  the  school 
calls  logic  (Dcnklehre)  and  what  it  calls  metaphysics  or 
ontology  (^Sclnslehre').  It  is  called  spccidative,  in  order  to 
distinguish  it  from  the  former  and  to  include  the  latter.  It 
is  metaphysical,  for  it  speaks  of  mechanical,  chemical,  and 
organic  processes,  and  likewise  embraces  ethics,  since  it 
treats  of  the  good.  In  this  it  is  consistent  with  its  panlo- 
gistic premises :  if  reason  not  only  conceives^  but  produces 
being,  if  it  is  the  creator  of  things,  if  it  is  everything;  the 
science  of  reason  (Xo^yiK-rj)  must  be  the  universal  science, 
which  includes  all  the  particular  sciences. 

It  is  an  inconsistency  ^  in  Hegel,  as  we  have  shown  else- 
where,^ to  have  his  Logic  followed  by  a  Philosojjhy  of  Nature 
and  a  Philosophy  of  Mind.  Logic  treats  of  reason  in  ah- 
stracfo,  the  philosophy  of  nature  and  of  mind  reveals  it  to 
us  as  it  realizes  itself  in  the  universe  and  in  history. 

I.    Logic,  or  Genealogy  of  Pure  Concepts 

1.    Quality,   Quantity,  Measure^ 

The  common  root  of  the  categories  or  pure  concepts  is 
the  notion  of  helny,  the  emptiest  and  at  the  same  time  the 

*  The  philosophy  of  nature  and  the  philosophy  of  mind  are  already 
implicitly  contained,  the  former  in  the  first  and  .second,  the  laller  in 
the  third,  part  of  the  logic. 

2  Introiluclion  hintorifjnc  a  la  philosophie  h^gdliennc,  Paris  and  Stras- 
bur^,',  ls(;(;,  p.  k;. 

•  Loyic,  vol.  I. ;  Encyclopedia,  §§  81  if. 


502  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

most  comprehensive,  the  most  abstract  and  the  most  real, 
the  most  elementary  and  the  most  exalted  notion.  It  is  the 
identical  substance,  and  the  material  of  all  our  notions,  the 
fundamental  theme  which  runs  through  them  all.  Indeed, 
quality  is  a  mode  of  heing,  quantity,  a  mode  of  leinij,  pro- 
portion, phenomenon,  action,  modes  of  hcing.  All  our 
concepts  express  modes  of  being,  and  hence  are  merely 
transformations  of  the  idea  of  being. 

But  how  shall  we  explain  these  transformations  ?  How 
does  leing,  which  is  everything,  become  an/jthiiig  else  ?  In 
virtue  of  what  principle  or  inner  force  is  it  modihed  ?  The 
contradiction  which  it  contains  is  this  principle  or  force. 
Being  is  the  most  universal  notion,  and  for  that  very  rea- 
son, also  the  poorest  and  emptiest.  To  be  white,  to  be 
black,  to  be  extended,  to  be  good,  is  to  be  something :  being 
without  any  determination  is  non-being.  Hence,  being 
pure  and  simjjle  is  equal  to  non-being.  It  is  both  itself 
ana  its  opposite.  If  it  were  only  itself,  it  would  remain 
immovable  and  barren ;  if  it  were  only  nothing,  it  would 
be  equal  to  zero,  and,  in  this  case,  perfectly  powerless  and 
fruitless.  Because  it  is  loth  it  hecomes  something,  a  differ- 
ent thing,  everything.  The  contradiction  contained  in  be- 
ing is  resolved  in  the  notion  of  hecoming^  or  development. 
Becoming  is  both  being  and  non-being  (that  which  will  be). 
The  two  contraries  which  engender  it,  being  and  nothing, 
are  contained  and  reconciled  in  it.  A  ncAV  contradiction  re- 
sults, which  is  resolved  by  a  new  synthesis,  and  so  on,  until 
we  reach  the  absolute  idea. 

This,  then,  is  the  moving  principle  in  the  Hegelian  logic : 
a  contradiction  is  reconciled  in  a  unity,  reappears  in  a  new 
form,  only  to  disappear  and  reappear  again,  until  it  is  re- 
solved in  the  final  unity.  By  repudiating  the  irrinciplc  of 
contradiction  of  Aristotle  and  Leibniz,  according  to  which  a 
thino-  cannot  both  be  and  not  be,  it  takes  sides  with  the 
Sophists,  without,  however,  falling  into  their  scepticism. 


HEGEL  603 

The  contradiction  does  not,  according  to  Hegel,  exist  in 
thouglit  alone,  but  also  in  the  things  themselves  ;  existence 
itself  is  contradictory.  When,  with  the  realistic  and  dual- 
istic  systems,  we  separate  thought  from  its  object  and  con- 
cede to  each  an  independent  existence,  the  antinomies  of 
thought  necessarily  become  a  source  of  discouragement  and 
scepticism.  However,  when  we  regard  nature  as  the  self- 
development  of  thought,  and  thought  as  nature  becoming 
conscious  of  itself,  when  we  recognize  that  the  world,  being 
thought  objectified,  contains  nothing  but  thought ;  the  con- 
tradiction in  which  the  philosopher  is  involved  ceases  to 
be  an  obstacle  to  the  understanding  of  things,  and  appears 
to  him  as  their  very  essence  reflecting  itself  in  the  antino- 
mies of  his  thought. 

Now  that  we  know  the  moving  principle  and  the  unchan- 
ging form  of  the  Hegelian  dialectics,  we  need  not  follow  out 
the  unvarying  and  monotonous  mechanism  of  its  deductions. 
It  will  be  sufficient  to  emphasize  the  most  salient  points  of 
his  metaphysics  as  set  forth  in  the  Logic. 

The  contradiction  found  in  the  idea  of  being  is  resolved 
in  the  notion  of  becoming.  Being  becomes,  i.  e.,  determines 
itself,  limits  itself,  defines  itself.  But  determinate  or  finite 
being  continues  ad  infimtum  ;  the  finite  is  infinite  ;  nothing 
compels  thought  to  assign  limits  to  it.  Here  we  have  a  new 
contradiction,  which  is  resolved  in  the  notion  of  individ- 
2iaUtg  (l)eing-for-self,  Filrsichsein).  The  individual  is  the 
unity  of  the  finite  and  the  infinite.  To  consider  these  two 
terms  as  excluding  each  other  is  to  forget  tliat  the  infinite, 
excluded  by  tlie  iinite,  would  be  limited  by  the  finite,  or 
A\'(nild  l)e  finite  itself.  If  the  infinite  begins  where  the  finite 
ends,  and  if  the  finite  begins  where  the  infinite  ends,  so  that 
the  infinite  is  beyond  the  finite,  or  the  finite  on  this  ddc  of 
the  infinite,  it  would  not  really  be  the  infinite.  The  infinite 
is  the  essence  of  the  finite,  and  tlic  finite  is  the  manifestation 
of  th(i  infinite,  the  infinite  existing.     Infinity  deterniineits 


504  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

itself,  limits  itself,  sets  boundaries  to  itself ;  in  a  word,  it 
becomes  tlie  finite  by  the  very  fact  that  it  gives  itself  exist- 
ence. Existence  is  possible  only  under  certain  conditions, 
in  certain  modes,  or  within  certain  limits.  Existence  is 
self-limitation.  Existence  is  finite  being.^  Finite  being, 
the  individual,  the  atom,  is  infinity  existing  in  a  certain 
manner,  limited  infinity :  quality  becomes  quantity. 

Quantity  is  extensive  quantity  (^lumler^  or  intensive 
quantity  {degree).  Number,  which  is  quantity  broken  up, 
so  to  speak,  and  degree,  which  is  concentrated  quantity, 
are  reconciled  in  the  notion  of  measure  and  iiro])ortion. 

Measure  is  being  becoming  essence  (  Wescn'). 

2.  Essence  and  Appearance.     Suhstantialitij  and  Causality. 
Reciprocity  ^ 

Essence  is  being,  unfolded  or  expanded  so  that  its  aspects 
reflect  each  other.  Hence  the  categories  which  follow 
come  in  pairs  :  essence  and  appearance,  force  and  expres- 
sion, matter  and  form,  substance  and  accident,  cause  and 
effect,  ground  and  consequence,  action  and  reaction.  This 
reflection-into-itself  {Befieonon  in  ihm  selbst),  or  if  we  prefer, 
this  reflex,  is  the  'phenomenon.  Essence  and  phenomenon 
(appearance)  are  inseparable  ;  indeed,  the  phenomenon  is 
the  very  essence  of  essence ;  or,  in  other  terms,  it  is  as 
essential  to  essence  to  appear  ((paiveaOac),  to  life  to  manifest 
itself,  to  the  principle  to  produce  its  consequences,  as  it  is 
essential  to  the  phenomenon  to  imply  an  essence.  Phe- 
nomenon without  essence  is  mere  show,  or  mere  appearance. 

The  essential  is  opposed  by  the  accidental  or  contingent, 
which  in  turn  becomes  essential  in  the  sense  that  the  idea 
of  the  essential  needs  it  in  order  to  be  produced.  No  cate- 
gory, we  see,  is  independent  of  its  neighbors.  Although 
excluding  each  other,  the  categories  need  and  mutually 
engender  each  other. 

1  Cf.  §  50.  '^  Logic,  vol.  II.  ;  Encycl,  §§  112  £f. 


HEGEL  505 

Essence  expresses  itself  in  a  series  of  phenomena,  and 
constitutes  the  thing  or  ohjeat,  which  is  a  totality  of  charac- 
teristics connected  by  one  and  the  same  essence.  Consid- 
ered in  their  relation  to  the  object,  these  characteristics  or 
phenomena  are  called  ■properties.  Just  as  there  is  no  essence 
without  a  phenomenon,  there  is  no  thing  apart  from  its 
properties.  A  thing  is  what  its  properties  are  ;  nothing  else. 
Se[)arate  the  thing  from  its  essential  properties,  and  noth- 
ing is  left ;  its  qualities  are  the  thing  itself. 

As  the  generative  principle  of  the  phenomenon,  the 
essence  is  the  force  or  agent  of  which  the  phenomenon  is 
the  act  or  expression.  Since  a  force  is  nothing  but  a  total- 
ity of  phenomena  considered  in  their  identity,  and  its  ex- 
pression merely  the  acting  force  itself,  in  so  far  as  it  exerts 
itself,  it  is  a  mere  tautology  to  explain  an  act  by  an  agent 
{ciir  opium  facit  dormire  ?  —  q^uia.,  etc.).  As  the  matter,  so 
its  form ;  as  the  agent,  so  the  act ;  as  the  character,  so  its 
manifestations ;  as  the  tree,  so  its  fruits. 

The  dualism :  essence  and  phenomenon,  ground  and  con- 
sequence, force  and  expression,  agent  and  act,  matter  and 
form,  is  resolved  in  the  notion  of  activity.^  the  synthesis  and 
summary  of  the  preceding  notions.  This  logical  category 
corresponds  to  what  is  called  nature  in  metaphysics-^  In 
short,  nature  is  action,  production,  creation.  All  the  treas- 
ures lying  in  her  fruitful  lap,  she  manifests,  produces,  and 
then  takes  back,  only  to  reproduce  and  take  back  again, 
and  reproduce  eternally. 

Activity  is  synonymous  with  reulitij  ( WirUichl-eit). 
Nothing  is  active  except  what  is  real,  and  nothing  is  real 
except  what  is  active.^     Absolute   rest   does   not  exist.^ 

1  It  must  not  be  forgotten  that  Ilegel  identifies  logic  and  meta- 
physics. 

'  Since  "  reason  alone  is  real,"  Ilegel  concludes  that  what  is  real  is 
rational  (p.  52 1). 

'  ndtna  x.oip('i  «"*  oibiv  fUpd  (§  8). 


506  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

Reality,  compared  with  mere  possibility^  becomes  necessity. 
What  is  real  is  necessarily  active.  Activity,  reality,  and 
necessity  are  synonymous.  A  being  exists  in  so  far  as  it 
acts,  and  acts  in  so  far  as  it  exists. 

Essence  or  reality,  considered  as  a  necessary  principle  of 
activity,  becomes  substance.  Substance  is  not  a  substratum 
in  the  proper  sense  of  the  word,  but  the  sum  of  its  modes. 
Hence  we  must  abandon :  in  theology,  the  idea  of  a  God 
existing  outside  of  the  universe ;  in  psychology,  the  idea  of 
a  soul  existing  independently  of  the  phenomena  constituting 
the  ego ;  in  physics,  the  assumption  of  a  kind  of  mysterious 
substratum  of  phenomena,  of  an  unqualified  and  unqualifi- 
able  something,  I-know-not-what,  without  extension,  with- 
out color,  without  form,  and  yet  supposed  to  be  something 
real.  A  substance  so  constituted  as  to  escape  scientific  ob- 
servation would  be  a  pure  chimera.  It  was  owing  to  an 
illusion  peculiar  to  dualism  that  the  poet  could  say :  "•  No 
mere  created  mind  e'er  penetrates  the  heart  of  nature."  ^ 
Nature  has  no  heart  or  inner  part;  the  outside  of  matter  is 
matter  itself ;  it  belongs  to  its  essence  to  unfold  itself,  to 
have  no  inner  life  {das  Wesen  der  Natur  ist  die  Aeiisscr- 
lichkeit). 

Substance  is  the  totality  of  its  modes.  But  it  is  not,  on 
that  account,  as  Spinozism  conceives  it,  a  purely  mechanical 
aggregate,  a  mere  sum ;  it  is  a  living  totality,  united  with 
its  modes  by  an  organic  tie :  it  is  the  cause  of  its  modes,  and 
its  modes  are  the  effects  of  the  substance.  These  notions 
are  not  indifferent  to  each  other  ;  they  are  correlative  pairs. 
The  cause  is  inseparable  from  its  effect;  the  effect  indis- 
solubly  connected  with  its  efficient  cause.  The  latter  is 
immanent  in  the  former,  as  the  soul  in  the  body.  Modes 
are  unfolded,  revealed,  expressed  substance ;  the  effect  is 

1  [Ins  Innere  der  Natur  dringt  kein  erschaffner  Geist : 
Zu  giiisklich,  wenn  sie  noch  die  aussre  Schale  weist. 

Haller,  Die  menscMichen  Tuycnden.  —  Tr.] 


HEGEL  607 

the  cause  effected,  explicated,  manifested.  There  is  noth- 
ing in  the  effect  which  is  not  also  in  the  cause  ;  nor  is  there 
anything  in  the  cause  that  does  not  effect,  assert,  or  realize 
itself.  The  idea  of  the  effect  cannot  be  separated  from  the 
idea  of  the  cause  ;  nay,  every  effect  is,  in  turn,  a  cause,  and 
every  cause,  the  effect  of  a  preceding  cause.  In  any  series 
of  causes  and  effects.  A,  B,  C,  D  .  .  .,  the  effect  B  is  noth- 
ing but  the  cause  A  asserting  itself  as  a  cause,  and  becom- 
ing in  B  the  cause  of  C,  in  C  the  cause  of  D,  and  so  on. 

The  causal  series  is  not,  as  formal  logic  maintains,  an 
indefinite  series,  a  progrcssus  in  infinitum^  in  which  each 
effect  produces  a  new  effect  without  reacting  upon  the 
cause  that  produced  it.  The  truth  is,  the  effect  B  is  not 
only  the  cause  of  C,  but  also  the  cause  of  A.  In  short,  A 
would  not  be  a  cause  unless  it  effected  B  ;  hence  it  is  owing 
to  B,  or  hecausc  of  B,  that  A  is  a  cause ;  hence  B  is  not  only 
the  effect,  but  also  the  cause  of  the  cause  A.  By. a  neces- 
sary reaction,  every  effect  is  the  cause  of  its  cause,  and 
every  cause  the  effect  of  its  effect.  Rain,  for  example,  is  a 
cause  of  moisture,  and  moisture,  in  tiu'n,  a  cause  of  rain,* 
or  again :  The  character  of  a  people  depends  on  their  form 
of  government,  but  the  form  of  their  government  also 
depends  on  the  character  of  the  people.  Hence,  since  the 
effect  is  not  fatally  jire-determined  by  its  cause,  but  reacts 
on  it,  the  causal  series  in  nature  is  not  a  straight  line  pro- 
longed to  infinity,  but  a  curved  line  wliich  returns  to  its 
starting-point,  i.  e.,  a  circle.  The  notion  of  a  rectilinear 
series  is  a  vague  and  indefinite  conception ;  the  idea  of  the 
circle  is  exact  and  clearly  defined,  a  finished  whole  (also- 
lutuni). 

This  reaction  of  tlie  effect  upon  tlie  caUvSe  (reciprocal 
action^  Wechsehvirkxviuj)  eidiances  tlie  im]:)ortance  of  the 
effect,  and  gives  it  the  cliaracter  of  freedom,  which  it  lacks 
ill  the  system  of  Spinoza.  Accor(Uiig  to  tliis  ])liih)Sopher, 
the  effect  necessarily  dupentls  upon  the  pre-existing  cause  j 


508  MODEKN  PHILOSOPHY 

in  reality,  however,  it  is  an  effect  only  in  a  certain  measure^ 
and  is  but  relatively  determined.  There  is  neither  in  the 
beginning,  nor  in  the  middle,  nor  in  the  end  of  the  causal 
series,  a  cause  distinct  from  all  the  rest,  and  absolute  with 
reference  to  the  others.  The  absolute  is  not  to  be  found 
in  any  particular  part  of  the  causal  chain ;  it  resides  in  the 
sum-total  of  the  particular  and  relative  causes.  The  latter 
are  not  so  many  slaves  following  the  triumphal  chariot  of 
a  first  cause  which  excludes  all  other  causality,  and  with 
regard  to  which  the  relative  causes  are  as  nothing ;  but 
each  cause  takes  part  in  the  absolute.  Each  is  relatively 
absolute,  none  is  absolutely  absolute.  No  one  has  an 
exclusive  claim  to  omnipotence ;  the  sum  of  individual 
energies,  or,  to  express  it  still  more  clearly,  everything 
that  exists  tlu-ough  causal  power,  constitutes  all  existing 
'power. 

In  reciprocal  action,  the  two  spheres  into  which  being 
is  divided  when  it  becomes  essence  and  phenomenon,  are 
reunited  and  thus  become  logical  totality. 

3.    The  Notion^  or  Subjective,  Objective,  and  Absolute 
Totality  ^ 

Outside  of  totality,  none  of  the  ideas  thus  far  evolved 
has  reality.  A  quality,  a  quantity,  a  force,  or  a  cause,  is 
nothing  apart  from  the  whole  in  which  it  is  produced. 
Nothing  in  nature  exists  in  isolation ;  nor  can  anything  in 
the  domain  of  thought  lay  claim  to  autonomy.  This  be- 
longs only  to  the  categories  taken  in  their  totality.  Lib- 
erty is  found  in  the  whole  alone.  Hence  in  logical  totality 
or  the  notion  (Begriff),^  being  and  essence  return  into 
themselves. 

1  Logic,  vol.  III.  ;  EncycL,  §§  160  ff. 

■•^  Hegel  regards  Begriff  as  synonymous  with  Inhegriff,  whole, 
totality. 


HEGEL  609 

The  idea  of  totality  is  divided  into  subjective  totality  (the 
notion  proper)  and  objective  totality. 

The  essential  elements  of  the  idea  of  life  :  essence,  phe- 
nomenon, and  reciprocal  action,  reappear  in  the  concept  of 
subjective  totality  or  notion,  as  tinkcrsalit//,  i^articularity, 
and  individualiti/.  In  the  judgment^  which  is  thought  or  the 
subject  in  action,  universality  and  individuality,  generality 
and  particularity,  have  the  appearance  of  being  distinct 
and  separate,  while  in  reality  the  judgment  is  merely  the 
affirmation  of  their  identity.  When  I  say  that  man  is 
mortal,  or  that  Paul  is  mortal,  I  affirm  that  the  character- 
istic common  to  all  created  beings,  mortality,  belongs  to 
the  particular  being  (man),  and  that  the  individual  Paul, 
in  turn,  as  a  mortal  being,  is  identical  with  the  univer- 
sality of  creatures.  In  so  far  as  the  judgment  affirms  the 
identity  of  the  universal  and  the  individual,  of  the  general 
and  the  particular,  it  is  contradictory.  The  solution  of  the 
contradiction  is  found  in  reasoning,  or  the  syllogmn.  The 
universal  or  general  notion  is  unfolded  in  the  major  prem- 
ise, the  individual  notion  in  the  conclusion ;  and  the 
minor  premise,  which  is  the  connecting  link  lietween  the 
major  premise  and  the  conclusion,  expresses  their  identity. 

The  subjective  notion  is  a  form  without  matter,  a  con- 
tainer without  a  content.  It  exists,  in  principle,  as  a  goal 
ov  final  cause^  but  does  not  exist  in  realit}'.  Hence  its  ten- 
dency to  objectify  itself ;  it  is  the  eternal  source  of  life  in 
nature  and  of  progress  in  history.  The  objectified  notion 
is  the  universe,  the  objective  ivhole,  or  objects.  Tlie  general, 
the  particular,  and  the  individual  are  successively  objec- 
tified in  mechanism  (simple  external  juxtaposition  of 
ol)jects),  in  chemism  (mutual  })en3trati(m  of  objects),  and 
in  organism  (totality-iniity). 

IIowcvL']-.  a  notion  wliicli  is  no  loii<_;ci'  a  notion,  tliouL;lit 
which  has  bcconu-  Ixxly,  is  again  contiadictoiv .  .Inst  as 
thought  is  not  made  to  remain  empty,  but  to  be  filled  with 


510  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

an  ol)jective  content;  so,  too,  the  world,  or  the  whole  of 
things,  is  not  made  to  remain  a  stranger  to  consciousness, 
but  to  be  thought  or  understood.  The  subjective  notion 
is  a  container  with  a  content ;  the  universe  which  is  uncon- 
scious of  itself  is  a  content  without  a  container.  The  lat- 
ter contradiction  is  abolished  by  the  interpenetration  of 
the  two  spheres  in  the  absolute  Idea,  which,  from  the 
theoretical  standpoint,  is  called  Truth,  and  from  the  prac- 
tical standpoint,  the  Good :  tliis  is  the  highest  category 
and  the  last  term  in  the  development  of  being. 

To  sum  up  :  Being  is  becoming,  development.  The  con- 
tradiction inherent  in  being  is  the  principle  or  impul- 
sive force  of  development.  Being,  self-expansion  (self- 
unfolding),  and  self-concentration  (the  understanding 
of  self),  constitute  the  unchanging  stages  in  the  process. 
Quality,  quantity,  measure  ;  essence  and  phenomenon,  sub- 
stantiality and  causality,  reciprocal  action ;  subjectivity, 
objectivity,  al^solute  :  these  are  the  serial  stages  of  being. 

Knowing  this  principle,  this  process,  and  these  stages, 
we  know  a  p^^iori  the  order  followed  in  the  creations  of 
nature  (expanded  reason)  and  of  mind  (concentrated  and 
comprehended  reason). 

II.    Philosophy  of  Nature 
1.    The  Inorganic  World 

Creative  thought,  like  the  reproductive  thought  of  man, 
begins  with  the  most  abstract,  the  most  vague,  and  the 
most  intangible :  with  space  and  matter.  After  passing 
through  a  long  line  of  development  it  culminates  in  the 
most  concrete,  the  most  perfect,  the  most  accomplished: 
the  human  organism. 

^  Encyclopedia,  §§  245  ff. — We  shall  consider,  in  tlie  following 
resume  ot  the  Philosophy  of  Nature,  the  changes  (which  were  not  very 
important)  to  which  it  was  siihjected  by  the  school. 


HEGEL  511 

Like  beinr/,  the  first  notion  in  logic,  space  exists  and 
tloes  not  exist ;  matter  is  something  and  nothing.  This 
contradiction  is  the  very  principle  of  physical  evolution, 
the  spring  which  sets  it  in  motion;  it  is  reconciled  in 
movement^  which  divides  matter  into  separate  unities 
(Filrsichsein)  and  forms  the  heavenly  system  of  them 
The  formation  of  heavenly  bodies  is,  as  it  were,  the  fu'st 
step  taken  by  nature  on  the  path  of  individuation.  The 
individualizing  tendency,  which  runs  through  nature  like 
a  mighty  desire,  manifests  itself  as  attraction.  Universal 
gravitation  is  the  ideal  unity  whence  all  things  spring  and 
whither  they  tend,  affirming  itself  in  the  midst  of  their 
separation.  It  is  the  individuality,  the  soul,  the  cement  of 
the  world ;  it  makes  an  organism,  a  living  unity  (tmiversum) 
of  the  world. 

Primitive  and  formless  matter,  the  common  source  of  the 
heavenly  bodies,  corresponds  to  what  logic  calls  indetermi- 
nate being.  The  distribution  of  this  matter,  its  organiza- 
tion into  a  sidereal  world,  corresponds  to  the  categories  of 
quantity.  Gravitation,  at  last,  realizes  the  idea  of  pro- 
portion. 

The  astronomical  cosmos  is  an  elementary  society  which 
anticipates  human  society.  But  tlie  laws  which  govern  it 
are,  as  3-et,  merel}-  mechanical  laws ;  the  relations  wliich 
the  stars  sustain  to  each  otlier  are  summed  up  in  tlie  law  of 
attraction.  Hence  the  science  wliich  considers  this  primary 
phase  of  being,  asd'onomy,  deals  witli  the  (hmensioiis  of 
tlie  stars,  tlicir  distances,  their  external  relations,  ratlier 
tlim  with  their  essential  (|ualities,  their  composition,  and 
tlieir  pliysiolog}^ 

2.     CJiemism 

A  second  cvolutidii  leads  to  llie  (|ualilal  i\'e  different  ia  lion 
of  iiiattei-.  'I""li('  oiigiiial  state  of  iiidifrereiice  is  followed 
jjy  a  vaiiety  of  agencicjs  (liglit,  electricity,   heat),  l)y  the 


512  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

reciprocal  action  of  elements,  by  the  inner  process  of  oppo- 
sition and  reconciliation,  separation  and  combination,  polar- 
ity and  union,  wliich  form  the  subject-matter  of  physics  and 
chemistry. 

Sidereal  motion  affects  only  the  surface  of  bodies  ;  chem- 
ism  is  an  inner  transformation,  a  change  not  only  of  place, 
but  of  essence,  a  prelude  to  that  ultimate  transformation  of 
"  substance  "  into  "  subject,"  of  matter  into  mind,  of  being 
into  consciousness,  of  necessity  into  freedom,  which  is  the 
thial  opoal  of  creation. 

Nothing  in  the  original  flow  of  things  resembles  individ- 
uality ;  nothing  is  stal^le,  fixed,  or  concentrated.  But 
nature  soon  returns  into  itself.  Just  as  in  logic  pure 
thought  returns  into  itself  and  forms  a  circle  or  totality 
{Begriff)^  so  in  nature,  the  realization  of  logic,  the  chemicul 
process  returns  into  itself  at  a  certain  point  and  forms  those 
centralized  wholes  which  we  call  organisms,  living  beings. 

3.     The   Organic   World 

The  appearance  of  life  is  wholly  spontaneous,  and  needs 
no  deus  ex  machina  to  explain  it.  It  is  the  effect  of  the 
same  higher  and  immanent  power  which,  as  attraction  and 
affinity,  separated  the  stellar  groups  and  the  elements  of 
chemism.  Surely,  mechanism  alone  cannot  produce  it; 
and  if  matter  were  nothing  but  matter,  the  course  of  its 
transformations  would  forever  be  in  the  straight  line  and 
centrifugal.  But  beneath  the  physical  process  the  evolu- 
tion of  the  Idea  takes  place,  which  is  the  final  goal  of 
things,  only  because  it  is  also  their  creative  principle. 

The  earth  itself  is  a  kind  of  organism,  a  crude  outline 
of  the  masterpiece  which  nature  tends  to  realize.  In  this 
sense,  Schelling  and  his  school  have  a  right  to  speak  of  the 
sold  of  the  celestial  bodies,  of  the  life  of  the  earth.  This 
life  has  its  vicissitudes,  its  revolutions,  and  its  historj-,  the 


HEGEL  513 

subject-matter  of  geology,  and  though  it  gradually  dimin- 
ishes, it  does  so  merely  to  become  the  inexhaustible  soui'ce 
of  new,  truly  organic  and  individual  life. 

From  the  ashes  of  the  terrestrial  organism  arises  the  veg- 
etable kingdom.  But  the  plant  itself  is,  as  yet,  merely  an 
imperfect  organism,  a  kind  of  association  or  federation,  the 
members  of  wliich  are  more  or  less  autonomous  individuals. 
Individuality  proper  is  realized  only  in  the  animal  king- 
dom. The  animal  is,  decidedly,  an  indivisible  whole,  whose 
parts  are  really  jncmbers,  i.  e.,  servants  of  the  central  unity. 
It  asserts  its  individuality  by  constant  assimilation,  respir- 
ation, and  locomotion.  It  is  endowed  with  sensibility,  nay, 
even  with  inner  heat  and  voice  in  its  most  perfect  represen- 
tatives. However,  there  are  insensible  transitions  here. 
As  the  inorganic  kingdom  is  connected  with  the  vegetable 
kingdom  by  astral  individualities  and  cr3'stallizations  ;  so  the 
vegetable  kingdom  passes  into  the  animal  kingdom  in  the 
zoophj-te.  Animals  are  developed  by  degrees.  The  same 
idea,  the  same  fundamental  plan,  more  and  more  perfectly 
executed,  runs  through  crustaceans,  mollusks,  insects,  fishes, 
reptiles,  and  mammals.  Finally,  in  the  human  organism, 
the  most  perfect  animal  form,  the  creative  idea  is  reflected 
in  all  its  fulness.  Here  it  stops.  In  the  material  realm  it 
produces  nothing  more  perfect.  We  say,  in  llie  material 
realm,  for  instead  of  being  exhausted  in  the  creation  of 
man,  the  creative  idea  saves  its  most  precious  treasures 
until  it  reaches  the  sphere  of  mind,  i.  e.,  lumianity. 

III.     Philosophy  of  Mind 

1,     The  Suhjcctive  Mind,  or  the  Individual 

Man  is  essentially  mind,  i.  e.,  consciousness  and  freedom. 
But  on  emerging  from  the  hands  of  nature  he  is  so  only  in 
principle.  Tlie  mind,  like  nature,  is  subject  to  tlie  law  of 
development.     Consciousness  and  freedom  do  not  exist  at 

33 


514  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

the  dawn  of  individual  or  generic  life;  they  are  the  pro- 
ducts of  the  evolution  called  history. 

The  individual  in  the  state  of  nature  is  governed  by 
blind  instinct,  by  brutal  passions,  and  by  that  egoism 
Avhich  characterizes  animal  life.  But  as  reason  develops, 
he  recognizes  others  as  his  equals ;  he  becomes  persuaded 
that  reason,  freedom,  spirituality  —  these  terms  are  synon- 
ymous —  are  not  his  exclusive  property,  but  the  common 
possession  of  all ;  he  lienceforth  ceases  to  claim  them  as  his 
exclusive  privilege.  The  freedom  of  his  fellow-creatures 
becomes  the  law,  the  bridle,  the  limit,  of  his  own  freedom. 
By  giving  way  to  this  power,  which  is  higher  than  the  indi- 
vidual, the  subjective  mind  yields  to  — 

2.    The  Oljective  Mind,  or  SocieUj  ^ 

The  blind  forces  manifested  in  the  state  of  nature,  e.  g., 
the  instinct  for  the  propagation  of  species  and  the  instinct 
for  revenge,  continue,  but  change  their  form.  Henceforth 
they  become  marriage  and  legal  punishment:  regulated, 
disciplined  instincts,  ennobled  by  the  law. 

The  objective  mind  first  manifests  itself  in  the  form  of 
right,  which  is  freedom  conceded  and  guaranteed  to  all. 
The  individual  who  is  recognized  as  free  is  a  person.  The 
personality  realizes  and  asserts  itself  through  property. 
Each  legal  person  has,  by  virtue  of  his  free  activity,  the 
right  to  possess,  and,  consequently,  also  the  right  to  trans- 
fer his  property.  This  transference  takes  place  in  the  form 
of  a  contract.    The  contract  is  the  State  in  embryo. 

'  Right  appears  in  the  fulness  of  its  power,  only  when 
individual  caprice  opposes  the  general  or  legal  will  (the 
objective  mind). 

The  conflict  between  the  individual  will  and  the  legal 
will  gives  rise  to  wrong  (i.  e.,  the  un-right,    Unrecht,  the 

1  Encyclopedia,  §§  482  ff. 


HEGEL  515 

negation  of  right).  But  though  denied  b}^  the  individual, 
right  remains  right,  the  will  of  all.  Temporaril}-  defeated, 
it  triumphs  in  the  form  of  penalty.  Injustice,  wrong- 
doing, and  crime  thus  merely  serve  to  bring  out  the 
power  of  justice,  and  to  prove  that  reason  and  right  are 
superior  to  individual  caprice.  Punishment  inflicted  by 
hxw  is  not  a  chastisement  or  correction,  but  a  just  retribu- 
tion ;  it  is  not  a  means,  but  an  end.  Right  rights  itself, 
justice  justifies  itself,  and  the  penitent  is  the  involuntary 
instrument  of  its  gloi-ification.  Capital  punishment  is  no 
more  than  just,  and  should  be  maintained.  But  is  it  not 
absurd  to  attempt  to  correct  an  evil-doer  by  killing  him  ? 
This  objection,  which  is  too  common  in  our  times,  rests,  as 
Hegel  holds,  upon  a  false  notion  of  legal  punishment,  the 
object  of  which  is  not  the  reform  of  the  individual  but  the 
solemn  affirmation  of  the  violated  principle.^ 

There  is  truth  in  the  objection  that  the  juridical  view  is 
one-sided  and  extreme.  The  jurist  considers  only  the  law 
and  its  fulfilment,  without  regard  to  the  inner  motive  of 
the  legal  act.  Nov/  the  individual  may,  in  all  respects, 
conform  to  the  prescriptions  of  the  law,  he  may  be  per- 
fectly honorable  in  his  outer  life,  and  yet  the  general  will 
may  not  be  his  will  and  the  true  motive  of  his  acts. 
Hence,  in  spite  of  the  semblance  of  conformity,  we  find  a 
hidden  but  quite  real  antagonism  between  the  sul)jective 
mind  and  the  objective  mind. 

This  antagonism  must  disappear,  tliis  impersonal  will, 
which  is  called  right,  justice,  must  become  the  personal 
will  of  the  individual,  the  inner  law  of  his  acts ;  legality 
must  become  morality;  or,  rather,  to  use  a  Hegelian 
phrase,  the  objective  mind  must  become  a  subject. 

iMorality  is  the  legality  of  the  lieart,  the  law  whicli  is 
identified  with  tlie  will  of  the  individual.     In  tlic  moral 

1  It  was  a3  a  consistent  Ilejjjciliaii  tli;it  the  l;ili'  M.  Vdra,  in  his 
capacity  a.s  a  depute,  (l(;f(.'n<l.-<l  c:ii>it:il  ininislinnint. 


516  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

sphere  the  code  becomes  moral  law,  conscience,  the  idea  of 
the  good.  Morality  inquires  not  only  into  the  act  as  such, 
but  into  the  spirit  wliich  dictates  it.  The  legal  sphere 
regulates  the  material  interests  of  life,  without  reaching 
the  conscience ;  it  fashions  the  will  according  to  a  certain 
type  ;  material  interest  is  its  highest  goal.  Morality  aims 
liigher :  it  subordinates  the  useful  to  the  good. 

Morality  is  realized  in  a  number  of  institutions,  which 
aim  to  unite  the  individual  wills  in  the  common  service  of 
the  idea. 

The  fundamental  moral  institution,  the  basis  of  all  the 
rest,  is  marriage,  the  family.  On  this  institution  rest 
civil  society  and  the  Btate.  Since  the  State  cannot  exist 
without  the  family,  it  follows  that  marriage  is  a  sacred 
duty  and  should  be  primarily  and  chiefly  based  on  the  con- 
sciousness of  duty,  or  reason.  It  is  a  moral  act,  only  in 
case  it  is  contracted  with  a  view  to  society  and  the  State. 
Otherwise  it  is  almost  equivalent  to  concubinage.  From 
this  stand])oint  also  we  must  consider  the  question  of 
divorce.  Divorce  would  be  justifiable,  only  in  case  matri- 
mony were  merely  a  matter  of  sentiment.  Rational  mo- 
rality condemns  it  in  principle,  and  cannot  tolerate  it  in 
practice  except  in  exceptional  cases  provided  for  by  the 
law.  The  holiness  of  marriage  and  the  honor  of  corpora- 
tions constitute  the  indispensable  basis  of  society  and  the 
State,  and  the  source  of  a  people's  prosperity ;  prostitution 
and  individual  egoism  are  an  infallible  cause  of  decadence. 

Civil  society,  grounded  on  the  family,  is  not  yet  the 
State.  Its  aim  is  the  protection  of  individual  interests. 
Hence  the  particularism  which  prevails  in  smaller  coun- 
tries where  civil  society  and  the  State  are  identical,  and 
which  disappears  with  the  formation  of  great  united 
States.  The  State  differs  from  civil  society  in  that  it  no 
longer  solely  pursues  the  good  of  the  individuals,  but  aims 
at  the  realization  of  the  idea,  for  wliich  it  does  not  hesitate 


HEGEL  617 

to  sacrifice  private  interests.  The  egoism  and  particu- 
larism wliicli  prevail  in  the  community  are  here  counter- 
balanced and  corrected.  The  State  is  the  kingdom  of 
the  idea,  of  the  universal,  of  the  objective  mind,  the  goal, 
of  wliich  the  family  and  civil  society  are  merely  the 
means. 

The  republic  is  not,  according  to  Hegel,  the  most  perfect 
form  of  government.  Ultimately  resting  upon  the  confu- 
sion of  civil  society  and  the  State,  it  exaggerates  the  im- 
portance and  the  role  of  the  individual.  The  republics  of 
antiquity  were  superseded  by  dictatorsliips,  because  they 
sacrificed  the  idea  to  the  individual,  the  family,  and  the 
caste.  In  the  Greek  Tyranny  and  Ri)man  Ciesarism  sover- 
eis-n  reason  itself  condemns  the  radical  vice  of  the  repub- 
lican,  democratic,  and  aristocratic  forms  of  government. 

The  monarchy  is  the  normal  political  form.  In  the  free 
and  sovereign  action  of  a  unipersonal  ruler  the  national 
idea  finds  its  adequate  expression.  The  State  is  nothing 
but  an  abstraction  unless  personified  in  a  monarch,  —  the 
depositary  of  its  power,  its  political  traditions,  and  the  idea 
which  it  is  called  upon  to  realize.  The  prince  is  the  State 
made  man,  impersonal  reason  become  conscious  reason,  the 
general  will  become  personal  will.  That  is,  according  to 
our  philosopher,  the  true  meaning  of  the  motto  of  Louis 
XIV. :  I'^tat  ccst  moi. 

Though  Hegel  condemns  political  liberalism,  he  favors 
national  liberalism  and  llie  principle  of  nationality.  From 
the  Utilitarian  standpoint  of  civil  society,  there  may  be,  at 
best,  a  union  or  confederation  of  hetorogcueous  elements. 
Switzerland  is  an  example  of  such  a  federation.  But  State 
means  nationality,  and  nationality  means  nnity  of  language, 
religion,  customs,  and  ideas.  The  State;  wliich  incorporates 
a  people  absolutely  different  from  its  own,  and,  against 
their  will,  fastens  upon  tliem  an  odious  yoke,  commits  a 
crime  against   nature.     In  such  a  case,  and  onl\'  then,  is 


518  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

opposition,  or  even  rebellion,  legitiniiite.  A  political  com- 
munity is  impossible  without  a  communion  of  ideas. 

Here,  liowever,  a  distinction  must  be  made.  Annexation 
is  not  a  crime  that  justifies  rebellion  unless  the  annexed 
nation  represents  an  idea  which  is  as  great,  fruitful,  and 
viable  as  the  idea  represented  by  the  conquering  people. 
There  are  nationalities  which  represent  no  idea  and  have 
lost  their  raison  d'etre.  Such  nations  are  to  be  condemned. 
The  Bretons  in  France  and  the  Basques  in  France  and  Spain 
belong  to  this  class. 

In  spite  of  appearances  to  the  contrary,  the  most  vigor- 
ous people,  the  State  representing  the  most  viable  idea, 
always  succeeds  in  gaining  the  mastery.  History  is  merely 
an  incessant  struggle  between  States  of  the  past  and  those 
of  the  future.  The  idea  of  the  State  is  gradually  realized 
by  means  of  such  defeats  and  victories.  The  historical 
States  are  the  temporary  forms  in  which  it  appears,  and 
which  it  discards  when  time  has  worn  them  out,  only  to 
assume  new  forms.  Since  the  absolute  is  not  restricted  to 
a  particular  existence,  but  is  always  found  in  the  whole,  we 
cannot  say  that  the  ideal  State  is  anywhere.  The  ideal 
State  is  everywhere  and  nowhere  :  everywhere,  because  it 
tends  to  realize  itself  in  historical  States  ;  nowhere,  for  as 
an  ideal,  it  is  a  problem  to  be  solved  by  the  future.  His- 
tory is  the  progressive  solution  of  the  political  problem. 
Every  nation  adds  its  stone  to  the  building  of  the  ideal 
State,  but  each  people  also  has  its  original  sin,  which  brings 
it  into  opposition  with  the  idea,  and  sooner  or  later  com- 
passes its  ruin.  Each  State  represents  the  ideal  from  a 
certain  side  ;  none  realizes  it  in  its  fulness  ;  none,  therefore, 
is  immortal.  Like  the  logical  notions,  which  are  absorbed 
by  a  more  powerful  rival,  and  by  virtue  of  the  same  law, 
the  nations,  one  after  another,  succumb  to  each  other,  and 
transmit  to  their  successors,  in  a  more  developed  and  en- 
larged form,  the  political  idea  of  which  they  have  been  the 


HEGEL  519 

depositaries,  the  civilization  of  which  they  have  been  the 
guardians. 

This  passing  of '  the  civilization  of  one  people  to  another 
constitutes  the  dialectics  of  history :  an  expression  which  is 
not  taken  figuratively  by  Hegel.  Logic  or  dialectics  is  the 
evolution  of  reason  in  inchvidual  thought ;  the  dialectics  of 
history  is  the  development  of  the  same  reason  on  the  world's 
stage.  One  and  the  same  principle  is  unfolded  in  different 
environments,  but  according  to  an  identical  law.  In  pure 
logic,  abstract  ideas  succeeded  each  other  on  the  stage 
of  thought  and  then  disappeared,  only  to  be  followed  by 
more  comprehensive  and  concrete  ideas.  In  the  logic  of 
nature,  objectified  ideas,  material  organisms,  succeeded  each 
other  and  formed  an  ascending  scale,  thereby  realizing, 
with  increasing  perfection,  the  ideal  type  of  physical  crea- 
tions. In  the  logic  of  history,  ideas,  again,  become  incar- 
nated in  nature,  and  invisibly  weave  the  web  of  human 
destinies.  Whether  these  ideas  unfold  themselves  beneath 
the  spiritual  gaze  of  the  philosopher,  or  whether  they  suc- 
ceed each  other  in  the  form  of  bodies,  or  become  incorpo- 
rated in  historical  nations,  tlrey  are  always  the  same,  and 
their  order  of  succession  is  invariable.  Reason  is  the 
innermost  substance  of  history,  which  is  a  logic  in  action. 
In  the  eyes  of  the  superficial  historian,  empires  rise,  flour- 
ish, and  decline,  peoples  struggle,  and  armies  destroy  each 
other.  But  Ijchind  th(;se  nations  and  their  armies  are  the 
principles  they  represent ;  beliind  the  rampaits  and  the 
batteries  ideas  antagonize  each  otliei'. 

War,  like  the  death  penalty,  has  chinigcd  in  asj)ecl.  AVith 
the  adv'ance  of  militiuy  ait  and  civilization  its  ciiU'lties 
are  lessened.  But  in  a  tcnipcnMl  and  inodilicd  lorni,  it 
will  continue  as  (tm^  of  the  imhspensahle  means  of  political 
progress.  It  is  tlic  lioast  of  oiii'  times  that  we  see  it  in 
its  true  light,  and  no  longer  ]-egard  it  as  the  j)assing  satis- 
faction of  the  caprice  of  a  sovereign,  l)ut  as  an  inevitable 


520  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

crisis  in  the  development  of  the  idea.  True,  legitimate, 
necessary  war  is  the  war  for  ideas,  war  in  the  service  of 
reason,  as  the  nineteenth  century  has  learned  to  wage  it. 
Not  that  antiquity  and  the  Middle  Ages  did  not  battle  for 
ideas ;  but  they  were  not  yet  conscious  of  the  moral  essence 
of  war.  The  ideas  formerly  collided  with  each  other,  like 
blind  forces ;  the  modern  world  is  conscious  of  the  cause 
for  which  it  is  shedding  its  blood.  Formerly  the  conflict 
was  one  between  passions  ;  now  it  is  a  battle  for  principle. 

The  victorious  State  is  truer,  nearer  to  the  ideal  State, 
better,  in  a  word,  than  the  vanquished  State.  The  very  fact 
that  it  has  triumi)hed  proves  this  :  its  triumph  is  the  con- 
demnation of  the  principle  represented  by  the  vanquished j 
it  is  the  judgment  of  God.  Thus  interpreted,  history 
resembles  a  series  of  divine  reprisals  directed  against 
everything  that  is  finite,  one-sided,  and  incomplete ;  it  is 
an  eternal  dies  irae,  which  nothing  earthly  can  escape. 

There  is,  in  every  epoch,  a  people  in  whom  mind  is  more 
completely  incarnated  than  in  the  rest,  and  who  march  in 
the  front  rank  of  universal  civilization.  That  is,  the  God 
of  history  has  successively  "  chosen "  the  Egyptians,  the 
Assyrians,  the  Greeks,  the  Romans,  and  the  French.  The 
national  minds  are  grouped  around  the  infinite  Mind  of 
which  history  is  the  temple,  and,  one  after  another,  become 
its  privileged  organs.  So  the  archangels  surround  the  tlirone 
of  the  Eternal. 

The  three  phases  of  every  evolution :  being,  expansion, 
and  concentration,  recur  in  the  three  great  epochs  of  history. 

In  the  Oriental  monarchies,  the  State  personified  in  the 
sovereign  dominates  the  individual  to  the  extent  of  anni- 
hilating him.  What  does  the  Ocean  care  for  the  waves 
playing  on  its  surface  ? 

In  the  States  of  Greece,  Asiatic  sluggishness  is  followed 
by  political  life  and  its  fruitful  conflicts  ;  the  absolute  mon- 
archy is  superseded  by  the  republic.     Here  individuals  are 


HEGEL  521 

no  longer  mere  modes  with  wliieli  the  substance  of  the  State 
has  nothing  to  do,  but  integral  parts  of  a  whole,  which  exists 
only  through  them ;  as  such  they  have  a  feeling  of  their 
importance,  and  appreciate  that  the  State  needs  their  co- 
operation. The  classical  republics  last  as  long  as  the  indi- 
vidual elements  and  the  State  remain  in  equilibrium.  They 
are  imperilled  as  soon  as  the  demagogue's  regime  substitutes 
for  the  national  interest  the  selfish  interests  of  individual 
ambition.  The  Cesarean  reaction  forces  the  rebellious  in- 
dividual into  obedience  ;  the  habitable  world  is  conquered ; 
the  most  diverse  nations  are  tlirown  into  one  and  the  same 
mould  and  reduced  to  an  inert  and  powerless  mass. 

The  equilibrium  between  the  State  and  the  individual  is 
restored  in  the  Cluistian  and  parliamentary  monarchy,  as 
the  best  example  of  which  Hegel  regards  the  English  con- 
stitution.^ 

3.     The  Absolute  Mind  2 

However  perfect  the  moral  edifice  called  the  State  may 
be,  it  is  not  the  highest  goal  whither  the  evolution  of  the 
Idea  tends ;  and  political  life,  though  full  of  passion  and 
intelligence,  is  not  the  climax  of  spiritual  activity.  Free- 
dom is  the  essence  of  mind ;  independence  is  its  life. 
Now,  in  spite  of  the  contrary  assertions  of  political  liberal- 
ism, even  the  most  perfect  State  cannot  realize  this. 
Whether  it  be  a  repu])lic,  a  constitutional  or  an  absolute 
monarchy,  aii  aristocracy  or  a  democracy,  it  does  not  cease 
to  be  a  State,  an  external,  armed,  armored  power,  a  kind  of 
prison  in  which  what  is  essentially  infinite  is  deprived  of 
its  vital  element.  Mind  cannot  unconditionaUij  subject  itself 
to   anythin;!  but  mind.     Not  iinding   in    ])olilical   life   the 

1  We  ought  to  afM  tliat  wliat  iiiflueiicfd  II('t,'('rs  jutlujiiioiit  was  not 
the  parliamentarism,  Imt  thi;  conservatism  of  the  Enj^lish  constitution. 
2  Enctjrlopedia,  §§  O;'):]  ff.     See  also  Hegel's  lectures  on  ^Esthetics, 
the  Philoso/ilit/  of  Reli(/ion,  and  the  Illstory  nf  P/iilosophy. 


522  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

supreme  satisfaction  which  it  seeks,  it  rises  beyond  it  into 
tlie  free  reahus  of  art^  religion,  and  science. 

Does  that  mean  that  the  mind,  in  order  to  realize  ite 
destiny,  shall  destroy  the  ladder  by  which  it  rose  ;  shall  it 
overturn  the  State,  society,  and  the  family  ?  Far  from  it. 
Indeed,  the  creations  of  art,  the  religious  institutions,  the 
works  of  science,  are  possible  only  under  the  auspices  of  a 
strong  State  and  under  the  protection  of  a  firmly  established 
government.  The  artist,  the  Christian,  and  the  philosopher 
can  no  more  do  witliout  society  and  the  State  than  the 
vegetable  and  animal  can  exist  without  the  mineral  king- 
dom. So,  too,  the  Idea,  whether  it  operates  in  the  form  of 
nature  or  of  mind,  never  destroys  its  creations ;  it  develoj^s 
and  perfects  them,  and  even  though  their  preservation  may 
seem  useless  to  us,  it  keeps  the  first-fruits  of  its  labors  in- 
tact. Nature,  in  which  everything  appears  to  be  in  a  state 
of  endless  destruction  and  revolution,  is  eminently  preser- 
vative :  the  mineral  kingdom  contiimes  to  exist  alongside 
of  the  vegetable  kingdom ;  the  vegetable  kingdom,  along- 
side of  the  animal  kingdom ;  and  in  the  animal  kingdom 
the  most  elementary  and  most  unfinished  types  exist  along- 
side of  the  most  perfect  types  :  nature  preserves  them  and 
uses  them  as  a  kind  of  pedestal  for  her  masterpiece.  More- 
over, the  higher  creations  are  possible  only  because  those 
which  precede  them  endure.  The  mineral  kingdom  gives 
life  to  the  vegetable  kingdom;  the  animal  lives  on  the 
vegetable  or  on  the  animal  inferior  to  it;  finally,  plants 
and  animals  nourish  man,  who  cannot  live  without  them. 
The  same  is  true  of  the  creations  of  the  mind :  from  the 
depths  of  the  soul  arises  the  demand  for  liberty ;  from  the 
fact  that  liberty  is  claimed  by  all,  grow  right,  property, 
and  the  penal  law ;  upon  the  solid  foundation  of  right  the 
moral  institutions,  the  family,  society,  and  the  State,  are 
established.  All  these  developments  are  closely  connected 
vrith  each  other,  and  each  exists  only  through  the  instru- 


HEGEL  523 

mentality  of  the  others.  Take  away  one  of  the  foundation- 
stones,  and  the  entire  universal  edifice  crumbles  to  pieces. 
The  higher  stories  of  tliis  structure  presuppose  the  perfect 
stability  of  the  lower  ones. 

Man  was,  first  of  all,  an  individual  (subjective  mind) 
shut  up  in  his  native  egoism ;  then,  emerging  from  him- 
self and  recognizing  himself  in  other  men,  he  formed  a 
community,  society,  and  State  (objective  mind);  finally, 
returning  into  himself,  he  finds  at  the  bottom  of  his  being 
the  ideal  of  art  or  the  beautiful,  the  religious  ideal  or  God, 
the  philosophical  ideal  or  truth,  and  in  the  realization  of 
this  tlu-eefold  ideal,  the  supreme  independence  to  which 
he  aspires :  he  becomes  ahsolute  mind. 

In  art,  the  mind  enjoys  by  anticipation  the  victory  over 
the  external  world  which  science  reserves  for  it.  The 
thought  of  the  artist  and  his  object,  the  human  soul  and 
the  infinite,  become  identified ;  heaven  descends  into  the 
soul,  and  the  soul  is  carried  heavenward.  Genius  is  the 
breath  of  God,  afflatus  divinus. 

Religion  reacts  against  the  pantheism  anticipated  by  art, 
and  shows  us  in  God  the  transcendent  Being,  whom  the 
genius  of  man  cannot  reach.  By  proclaiming  the  dualism 
of  the  infinite  and  the  finite,  religion  is,  in  appearance,  a 
relapse,  a  kind  of  return  of  the  mind  to  the  external  yoke ; 
in  reality,  however,  it  is  a  necessary  crisis  of  the  mind, 
wliich  develops  its  forces  and  l>rings  it  nearer  to  God,  in 
struggling  beneath  the  yoke.  That  it  is  an  evolution  may 
be  seen  from  the  fact  that  Christianity  itself,  its  most  per- 
fect form,  proclaims  the  unity  of  tlie  linite  and  the  iniinite 
in  Jesus  Christ,  and  thus  anticipates  the  highest  develoi)- 
ment  of  the  mind :  pinlosophi/. 

Pliilosophy  realizes  wliat  art  and  tlic  Cliristiaii  dogma 
foreshadow.  Art  and  religious  faith  spring  from  fccHiig 
and  imagination;  science  is  the  triumph  of  pure  reason, 
the  apotheosis  of  mind.     By  understanding  tlie  world,  tlio 


524  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

mind  frees  itself  from  it.  Nature  and  its  forces,  the  State 
and  its  institutions,  wliieli  but  lately  seemed  like  a  pitiless 
Fate,  change  in  appearance  so  soon  as  the  mind  recognizes 
in  nature  the  works  of  reason,  i.  e.,  its  own  works,  and 
regards  social  and  political  institutions  as  the  reflection  of 
the  moral  authority  dwelling  in  itself.  If  nature,  law, 
right.  State,  represent  different  forms  of  mind  (objective 
mind),  all  these  barriers  fall  away ;  if  everything  that  is 
real  is  found  to  be  rational,  reason  has  no  other  law  except 
itself.  On  this  summit  of  universal  life,  the  ego  and  the 
world  are  forever  united. 

In  conclusion,  we  shall  summarize  Hegel's  philosophy 
of  art,  religion,  and  philosophy,  especially  the  first,  which 
has  not  been  surpassed. 

1,  Art  is  the  anticipated  triumph  of  mind  over  matter; 
it  is  the  idea  penetrating  matter  and  transforming  it  after 
its  image.  But  the  matter  which  the  idea  employs  to  incor- 
porate itself  is  a  more  or  less  docile  or  rebellious  servant ; 
hence  the  different  forms  of  art,  the  fine  arts. 

In  architecture^  the  elementary  stage  of  art,  idea  and 
form  are  quite  distinct ;  the  idea  cannot  as  yet  wholly  con- 
quer the  matter  which  it  employs,  and  the  matter  remains 
rebellious.  Architecture  is  merely  a  symbolic  art,  in  which 
the  form  suggests  the  idea  without  directly  expressing  it. 
The  pyramid,  the  pagoda,  the  Greek  temple,  the  Christian 
cathedral,  are  admirable  symbols,  but  the  distance  between 
these  edifices  and  the  idea  which  they  symbolize  is  as  great 
"  as  that  between  heaven  and  earth."  Moreover,  the  ma- 
terials of  architecture  are  the  most  material  in  the  physical 
world.  This  art  is  to  sculpture,  painting,  and  music,  what 
minerals  are  to  vegetables  and  animals.  Resembling  the 
astronomical  universe  in  its  gigantic  proportions  and  over- 
whelming majesty,  it  expresses  solemnity,  austerity,  mute 
grandeur,  the  unalterable  repose  of  force,  the  immovable 
statu  quo  of  the  infinite ;  but  it  is  incapable  of  expressing 


HEGEL  525 

the  thousand  shades  of  life,  the  infinitely  varied  beauties 
of  reality. 

The  dualism  of  form  and  idea,  which  characterizes  archi- 
tecture, tends  to  disappear  in  sculpture.  The  art  of  the 
sculptor  has  this  in  common  ^yith  architecture :  like  its 
elder  sister,  it  employs  gross  matter,  marble,  brass ;  but  it 
is  much  more  capable  of  transforming  and  spiritualizing 
them.  In  the  purely  symbolical  work  of  the  architect, 
there  are  details  and  accessories  which  in  no  wise  assist  in 
expressing  the  idea ;  in  the  statue,  nothing  is  indifferent, 
everything  is  in  the  service  of  the  idea  of  which  it  is  the 
direct  expression,  the  immediate  revelation.  But  the  statue 
is  incapable  of  representing  the  soul  itself  as  revealed  in 
the  eye.     This  advance  is  made  in  painting. 

The  matter  employed  by  painting  is  somewhat  less  ma- 
terial than  that  of  sculpture  and  architecture  ;  it  is  no 
longer  the  three-dimensional  Ijod}-,  but  the  plane  surface. 
Depth  is  reduced  to  a  mere  appearance,  produced  b}^  per- 
spective, spiritualized.  However,  painting  can  express 
only  a  moment  of  life,  a  moment  which  it  is  obliged  to 
stereotype  and  consequently  to  materialize;  the  idea  is  still 
bound  to  matter  and  extension.  Owing  to  this  common 
cliaracteristic,  architecture,  sculpture,  and  painting,  together 
form  objective  art.  Hence,  they  are  inseparable ;  they  are 
combined  in  a  thousand  different  ways.  Tliese  first  three 
external,  visible,  material  forms  of  art  are  superseded  by 
subjective^  invisible,  immaterial  art,  or  music. 

]\rnsic  is  a  spiritualistic  art,  the  art  which  can,  with 
tlirilling  truth,  reproduce  the  innermost  essence  of  the 
human  soul,  the  infinite  shades  of  feeling.  The  direct 
opposite  of  architecture,  sculpture,  and  painting,  it,  too,  is 
an  incomplete  art.  Tliere  can  be  notliing  extreme  in  \)vy- 
feet  art;  it  is  tlie  synthesis  of  all  contraries,  the  harmoni- 
ous union  of  the  world  of  nnisic  and  the  woild  of  objective 
art.     This  ail  of  arts  is  poetri/. 


526  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

Poetry  is  art  endowed  with  speech,  the  art  which  can 
say  everything,  express  everything,  and  create  everything 
anew,  the  universal  art.  Sculpture,  like  architecture, 
employs  matter  in  its  grossest  form,  but  it  spiritualizes 
marble ;  it  gives  life  and  intelligence  to  this  block  of  which 
architecture  can  merely  make  a  more  or  less  eloquent 
symbol.  So,  too,  poetry  and  music  both  employ  sound, 
but  in  music  this  is  vague  and  indefinite  like  the  feeling 
which  expresses  it.  In  the  service  of  the  poet  it  becomes 
articulate  and  definite  sound,  a  word,  language.  Music 
makes  a  symbol  of  sound,  —  a  piece  of  music,  like  an 
edifice,  is  susceptible  of  the  most  diverse  interpretations, 
—  poetry  wholly  subordinates  it  to  the  idea.  Architec- 
ture contents  itself  with  suggesting  the  Divinity  who 
reigns  beyond  the  stars ;  sculpture  brings  him  down  upon 
the  earth.  Music  localizes  the  infinite  in  feeling ;  poetry 
assigns  to  it  the  boundless  realm  which  of  right  belongs  to 
it :  nature  and  history.  It  is  all-powerful  and  inexhaust- 
ible, like  the  God  who  inspires  the  poet. 

Sculpture  and  poetry,  on  the  one  hand,  architecture  and 
music,  on  the  other,  are  to  art  what  pantheism  and  theism 
are  to  religious  thought.  Architecture  and  music  show 
the  traces  of  the  theistic  idea ;  sculpture  and  poetry,  which 
make  the  ideal  descend  into  the  real,  are  pantheistic  arts. 
Hence  it  comes  that  architecture  and  music  are  the  faith- 
ful followers  of  religion;  while  sculpture,  painting,  and 
poetry,  wliich  are  also  enrolled  in  the  service  of  religious 
faith,  do  not  serve  it  so  submissively.  Sculpture  is  pagan ; 
and  it  was  owing  to  its  pantheism  that  images  of  God  were 
condemned  by  Mosaism  and  rigorous  Protestantism.  Po- 
etry, on  the  other  hand,  celebrated  its  great  triumphs  outside 
of  the  domain  of  religion.  Shakespeare,  Molifere,  Goethe, 
and  Byron  are  no  more  Christians  than  Sophocles,  Pindar, 
and  Euripides.  Modern  religious  poetry  seems  to  be 
afflicted  with  barrenness.     It  is  because  great  poetry  is  so 


HEGEL  527 

intimate  a  union  of  divine  and  human  elements  that  the 
dogma  of  divine  transcendency  is  actually  cancelled  by  it. 

The  epitome  and  quintessence  of  all  the  arts,  poetry 
constructs,  sculptfli'es,  designs,  paints,  sings;  it  is  archi- 
tecture, sculpture,  painting,  and  music,  and  these  diverse 
forms  which  it  can  successively  assume  are  again  found  in 
what  we  call  its  genres  (^GaUungsunterschiede'). 

Corresponding  to  objective  art,  represented  by  architec- 
ture, sculpture,  and  painting,  we  have  ejnc  poetry,  wliich 
is  to  poetry  what  tlie  pyramid  is  to  art.  The  epic  rep- 
resents the  childhood  of  poetry.  It  is  garrulous,  ornate, 
full  of  the  marvellous,  like  the  imagination  of  the  child, 
indetinitely  long,  like  the  first  years  of  life. 

Zgj^c  poetry  corresponds  to  music.  The  epic,  like  the 
objective  arts,  loves  to  paint  nature  and  its  wonders,  his- 
tory and  its  glories ;  lyric  poetry  falls  back  upon  the  invis- 
ible world,  no  less  vast  than  the  other,  called  the  luunan 
soul.     It  is,  therefore,  an  extreme  and  incomplete  class. 

The  perfect  genre,  which  reconciles  the  two  worlds,  the 
poetry  of  poetry,  is  dramatic  poetry.  The  drama,  which 
flourishes  only  among  the  most  civilized  peoples,  repro- 
duces history,  nature,  and  the  human  soul  with  its  pas- 
sions, emotions,  and  conflicts. 

Art  has  not  only  its  different  forms,  it  has  also,  like 
each  of  its  forms,  its  historical  development  in  three 
epochs. 

Oriental  art  is  essentially  symbolical.  It  delights  in  alle- 
gory and  paraljles.  Unlike  the  Greek  masterpieces,  which 
are  self-explanatory,  its  products  must  be  interpreted,  and 
may  be  interpreted  differently.  It  is  still  powerless  to 
overcome  matter,  and  the  feeling  of  this  weakness  reveals 
itself  in  all  its  works.  Despising  form,  finish,  and  detail, 
it  is  fond  of  caricature,  exaggerations,  and  the  colossal, 
and,  in  all  its  creations,  l)ctrays  its  predilection  for  the 
inlinile  ami  iiiconun('nsural)le. 


528  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

In  Greek  art,  symbolism  is  superseded  by  direct  expres- 
sion; the  whole  idea  descends  into  the  form.  But  even 
the  sublime  and  almost  superhuman  perfection  of  this  art  is 
extreme  and  imperfect.  The  idea  so  completely  penetrates 
the  matter  as  to  be,  ultimately,  indistinguishable  from  it; 
it  is  sacrificed  to  outward  form  and  physical  beauty. 

This  defect,  which  is  no  less  signal  than  the  formless 
spiritualism  of  Asiatic  art,  is  corrected  in  Christian  art. 
Christianity  recalls  art  from  the  visible  world,  in  which  it 
had  lost  itself,  to  the  ideal  sphere,  its  true  home.  Under 
the  influence  of  the  Gospel,  the  idea  of  the  beautiful  is 
spiritualized,  the  adoration  of  physical  beauty  makes  way 
for  the  worship  of  moral  beauty,  purity,  and  holiness ;  the 
worship  of  the  Virgin  follows  the  cultus  of  Venus.  Chris- 
tian or  romantic  art  does  not  exclude  physical  beauty,  but 
subordinates  it  to  transcendent  beauty. 

Now,  the  material  form  is  inadequate  to  the  moral  ideal. 
The  most  finished  masterpieces  cannot  satisfy  the  Christian 
artist.  The  Virgin  of  whom  he  dreams,  the  eternal  dwell- 
ing-places which  his  spiritual  eye  perceives,  the  heavenly 
music  whose  harmonies  his  soul  enjoys,  the  divine  life 
which  he  desires  to  portray,  his  ideal,,  in  a  word,  is  still 
more  beautiful;  so  beautiful,  indeed,  that  neither  burin, 
nor  brush,  nor  bow,  nor  pen,  nor  anything  material  can 
express  it.  Hence  Christian  art,  despairing  of  its  powers, 
finally  relapses  into  that  contempt  for  form  and  that  exces- 
sive spiritualism  which  is  both  the  characteristic  feature 
and  the  failing  of  romanticism. 

2.  Though  man  may,  in  his  inspired  moments,  regard 
himself  as  identical  with  the  God  who  inspires  him,  he  very 
soon  discovers  his  insignificance  when  it  comes  to  giving 
his  ideal  a  material  form.  Thus  religion  springs  from  art. 
Primitive  art  is  essentially  religious  ;  natural  religion,  es- 
sentially artistic.  Idolatry  is  the  connecting  link  between 
religion  and  art. 


HEGEL  529 

Religion  becomes  conscious  of  itself,  and  emancipates 
itself  from  art  by  abolishing  idols.  This  advance  is  made 
in  ]\Iosaism.  The  Bible  condemns  idolatry  because  it  recog- 
nizes man's  inability  to  express  the  infinite  by  means  of 
matter;  it  forbids  stone  images  because  the  idea  has  no 
adequate  form  except  itself.  But  though  it  prohibits  us 
hom  picturi'mj  the  invisible,  it  does  not  hinder  us  from  pic- 
turing it  to  ourselves  ;  it  forbids  the  outward  image,  but  it 
does  not  forbid  the  imagination  itself  and  the  ideas  with 
which  it  peoples  the  mind.  Far  from  it.  The  fact  is, 
religion  is  essentially  representation  {Vbrstelhong).  Art 
represents  the  infinite  ;  religion  represents  it  to  itself  as  a 
personal  and  extra-mundane  being.  Anthropomorphism 
is  its  characteristic  feature.  In  religious  thought,  the 
finite  and  the  infinite,  earth  and  heaven,  which  are  united 
in  the  feeling  of  the  beautiful,  are  again  disjoined.  Man 
is  down  below,  God  is  up  above,  so  high  and  so  far  that  he 
needs  the  ministry  of  angels  in  order  to  communicate  with 
the  world.  Religion  is  dualistic,  but  there  is  nothing  final 
in  its  dualism.  It  separates  heaven  and  earth,  only  to 
unite  them  ;  it  separates  God  and  humanity,  only  to  recon- 
cile them. 

The  essential  elements  of  the  religious  idea :  infinite 
God,  mortal  man,  and  their  relation,  successively  prevail 
in  the  history  of  religion. 

In  the  religions  of  the  Orient  the  idea  of  infinity  pre- 
dominates. Their  salient  feature  is  pantheism ;  an  ultra- 
religious  pantheism,  however,  which  is  synonymous  with 
acosmism  and  may  1)0  summed  up  in  these  words :  God  is 
everything,  man  is  nothing.  Brahmanism  is  the  most  com- 
plete expression  of  Asiatic  pantheism.  Mosaic  monotheism, 
though  otherwise  diifering  from  Indian  religions,  shows 
the  same  cliaracteristics.  The  God  of  the  Orient  beai-s  the 
same  relation  to  man  as  the  princes  of  the  Orient  ])ear  to 
their  subjcfts.      He   is  tlie  Creatoi-,  and   men  are  his  crca- 


34 


530  MODERN  PHlLOSOrHY 

tures ;  hence  he  can  dispose  of  them,  he  can  make  them 
live  and  die,  exalt  them  and  debase  them,  just  as  he  pleases. 
Man  is  to  God  what  the  earthen  vase,  is  to  the  potter ;  no 
more,  no  less.  Human  liberty  and  spontaneity  are  out  of 
the  question.  Not  only  the  act,  but  also  the  will  comes 
from  God ;  he  enlightens  and  hardens  the  hearts ;  he  pre- 
destines everything,  be  it  for  good  or  for  evil.*  Since  om- 
nipotence belongs  to  God,  there  is  nothing  left  for  man  but 
total  impotence  and  mournful  resignation.  The  inhnite 
as  such  cannot  tolerate  an  independent  existence  by  its 
side  ;  Siva,  Moloch,  and  Saturn  devour  their  own  children, 
and  where  this  does  not  happen,  the  latter,  knowing  that 
their  existence  is  displeasing  to  God,  destroy  themselves, 
or  suffer  a  slow  martyrdom,  or  absolutely  relinquish  their 
personality. 

Greece  is  as  fond  of  tinitude  and  form,  nature  and  the 
things  of  the  earth,  as  Asia  is  religious.  Its  religion  is  as 
serene  as  its  skies,  as  racUant  and  transparent  as  the  atmos- 
phere surrounding  it ;  the  clouds  which  elsewhere  hide  God 
from  the  eye  of  man,  vanish  at  the  first  effort  of  the  mind ; 
the  divine  and  the  human  are  blended  and  united  ;  religion 
is  identified  with  art,  and  art  with  the  worship  of  humanity. 
The  riddle  of  the  Sphinx  is  the  riddle  of  Hellenic  polythe- 
ism. Man  is  the  solution  of  the  riddle.  The  God  whom 
the  Greek  adores  under  the  form  of  Zeus,  Apollo,  Athene, 
Apln-odite,  is  man  and  his  power,  intelligence,  and  beauty. 
His  divinities  are  relative  beings.  Nay,  this  mythological 
heaven,  radiant  with  eternal  youth,  is  in  reality  subject  to 
Fate,  the  mysterious  power  which  rules  over  gods  and 
mortals  alike.  This  Destiny,  the  supreme  power  of  which 
the  poets  eagerly  strive  to  exalt,  is  like  a  conscience  which 
antiquity  cannot  silence ;  it  is  the  infinite  of  the  Oriental 
religions,  which,  like  a  Shakespearean  ghost,  haunts  the 
sensuous  environment  of  the  polj^theistic  cultus. 

The   Orient  professes  the  religion  of  the  infinite  and 


HEGEL  531 

abstract  ;  Greece  worships  at  the  shrine  of  the  finite. 
These  two  extremes  of  religion  are  reconciled  in  Christian- 
it}',  in  which  the  spii'it  of  the  Orient  and  the  Gi'eek  genius 
are  united.  For  the  Hindoo,  God  is  everything,  man  noth- 
ing ;  for  the  Greek,  God  is  nothing  or  very  little,  man, 
everything ;  for  the  Christian,  the  important  thing  is 
neither  God  considered  in  the  abstract,  the  Father,  nor 
man  in  the  abstract,  but  the  concrete  unity  of  the  divine 
and  the  human  as  realized  in  Jesus  Christ.  The  God 
whom  Jesus  reveals  to  us  is  the  same  as  the  God  who 
reveals  him  ;  he  is  neither  an  infinite  being  like  the  God  of 
Oriental  religions,  nor  a  finite  one,  like  the  pagan  divinities, 
but  a  Being  who  is  both  God  and  man,  the  God-]\Ian.  The 
distance  between  the  Christian  heaven  and  the  earth,  be- 
tween the  God  of  the  Gospel  and  humanity,  is  not  insuper- 
able ;  nay,  tlii^  God  comes  down  from  his  throne,  enters  the 
sphere  of  finity,  lives  our  life,  suffers  and  dies  like  us,  then 
rises  from  the  dead  and  enters  into  his  glory.  Christianity 
is  to  the  preceding  religions  what  poetry  is  to  the  fine  arts ; 
it  embraces  them  and  at  the  same  time  purifies  and  com- 
pletes tliem.  It  is  the  synthesis  of  all  religions,  the  absolute 
religion. 

3.  Tlie  Christian  dogma  is  truth  in  the  form  of  repre- 
sentation (^Vorstellung').  The  three  stages  in  the  evolution 
of  immanent  reason,  idea,  nature,  and  mind,  ])ecome  three 
persons.  Tlu;  union  of  the  infinite  and  finite  in  human 
consciousness,  i,  e.,  a  process  embracing  the  whole  of  uni- 
versal liistory,  is  regarded  as  an  evoit  that  luippened  once 
for  all  times  in  Palestine,  eighteen  lumdred  years  ago.  In 
tin's  fidin  the  <l(>gma  is  an  inadiMiuate  expression  of  tlu; 
truth  wliich  it  contains.  Moreover,  it  is  imposed  as  an 
ext(.'rnal  authority,  whereas  the  miiul,  whicli  is  free  in 
essence,  can  only  be  realized  as  free.  In  order  to  reaeli  llie 
climax  of  its  evolution,  it  has  simply  to  divest  the  religious 
doctiine  of  its  irprcseiitative  form,  ami  lo  give  it  tlie  rational 


532  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

form.  This  advance  is  made  by  philosophy.  The  Gospel 
and  true  philosophy  have  the  same  content.  But  the  con- 
tainer is  not  the  same ;  with  the  Cluistian  it  is  the  imarj- 
ination,  with  the  pliilosopher,  reason.  Philosophical  truth 
is  religious  truth  in  the  form  of  a  concept ;  it  is  compre- 
hended truth.  The  absolute  idea  becomes  absolute  mind, 
absolute  self-consciousness. 

The  history  of  philosophy,  like  all  history,  is  a  regu- 
lar development,  reproducing  the  entire  series  of  catego- 
ries:  Eleatism  is  the  philosophy  of  being;  Heraclitus  is 
the  philosopher  of  becoming;  Democritus  and  atomism 
correspond  to  the  idea  of  individuality  (Filrsichsein),  and  so 
on.i  It  attains  to  its  fullest  expansion  in  absolute  idealism, 
i.  e.,  in  the  system  which  we  have  just  outlined. 

What  truth  is  there  in  tliis  final  claim  ?  How  much  of 
it  is  illusory  ? 

Hegelianism  is,  without  doubt,  the  most  comprehensive 
and  complete  synthesis  ever  attempted  by  the  human 
mind,  —  a  veritable  encyclopaedia,  animated  by  a  central 
idea,  and  supported  by  a  method  that  has  implicit  confi- 
dence in  itself.  Hence,  if  philosophy  is  what  our  opening 
paragraph  defined  it  to  be,  we  must  give  Hegel  the  credit 
of  having  come  nearer  to  the  ideal  of  science  than  any  of 
his  predecessors.  Furthermore,  no  one,  after  Kant,  gave 
to  modern  thought  so  powerful  an  impetus,  —  no  one  more 
completely  dominated  and  fascinated  it.  Jurisprudence, 
politics,  ethics,  theology,  and  sesthetics,  —  all  have  suffered 
his  influence.  Nor  is  that  all.  By  demonstrating  that  be- 
ing is  becoming,  logical  development,  history,  that  history  is 
not  only  a  science  among  others,  but  the  science  of  sciences, 
he  ably  seconded,  if  he  did  not  create,  the  historical  move- 
ment of  the  nineteenth  century,  and  impressed  upon  it  the 
stamp  of  impartial  objectivity  wliich  characterizes  it,  and 

1  History  of  Philosophy,  I.  43. 


HEGEL  533 

which  was  foreign  to  the  eighteenth  centiiiy.  David 
Stkauss  and  his  Lcben  Jesu,  Bauk,  the  celebrated  liistorian 
of  primitive  Cliiistianity  and  the  founder  of  the  historical 
school  of  Tiibingen,  Michelet,  Rosenkranz,  Erdjiann, 
Peantl,  Zeller,  Kuxo  Fischer,  the  brilliant  interpreters 
of  ancient  and  modern  thought,  come  from  Hegel.^  The 
conception  that  philosopliies  and  religions  are  different 
stages  of  one  and  the  same  development;  the  hypothesis 
that  an  unconscious  reason  creates  and  transforms  lan- 
guages; the  ideas  of,  and  even  the  expressions,  genesis^ 
evolution^  2>rocess,  the  logic  of  history,  and  many  others, 
which  have  become  common-places  in  the  political,  relig- 
ious, and  scientific  press,  are  products  of  the  Hegelian 
movement. 

1  For  the  literature,  see  §  3.  —  Outside  of  Germany  and  the  Xorth- 
ern  countries,  where  it  was  taught  by  Mourad  and  Lyng  at  Christi- 
ania,  and  by  Borelius  at  Lund  (Sweden),  the  Hegelian  philosophy  was 
especially  popular  in  Italy,  where  Vera,  professor  at  Naples,  acted  as 
its  chief  interpreter.  In  France  it  influenced  the  sociological  theories 
of  Proudhon  and  Pierre  Leroux,the  first  phase  {maniere)  of  V.  Cousin 
(§  71),  and,  above  all,  the  idealism  of  Vacherot  {La  me'lapJnjsique  et  la 
science,  Paris,  1852  ;  2d  ed.,  1802 ;  La  science  el  la  conscience,  Paris,  1872, 
etc.).  Vacherot,  who  in  some  respects  resembles  the  eclectics  (§  71), 
wholly  differs  from  them  in  that  he  absolutely  denies  the  personality 
of  God.  According  to  Vacherot,  God  is  the  ideal  to  which  things 
aspire,  and  exists  only  in  so  far  as  he  is  thought,  while  the  world 
is  the  real  infinity.  "Eliminate  man,"  he  adds,  "and  God  no  longer 
exists ;  no  humanity,  no  thought,  no  ideal,  no  God,  since  God  exists 
only  for  the  thinking  being."  La  mc'laphysique  el  la  science,  2d  ed., 
vol.  m..  Conclusion.  [Representatives  of  the  Hegelian  movement 
in  England:  J.  II.  Stirling  (see  p.  490,  note  .3),  T.  II.  Green  {Works, 
3  vols.,  London  and  New  York,  1885-88;  Prolegomena  to  Ethics, 
1883),  F.  II.  Bradley  (Ethical  Studies,  1870;  Principles  of  Logic, 
1883;  Appearance  ami  liealitij,  1891),  J.  t'aird  (Introduction  to  the 
Philosophy  of  Religion,  1880),  E.  Caird  (see  p.  131,  n.2),  li.  nosun.piet 
(Logic,  2  vols.,  1888),  W.  Wallace  (see  p.  197,  n.  3),  etc.  ;  in  America, 
W.  T.  Harris,  Editor  of  the  Journal  of  Speculative  Philosophy,  fouiKh-d 
1807.  —  Tk.] 


534  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

What  discredited  Hegelianism  and  pliilosopliy  itself  -~ 
for  there  was  a  time  when  the  two  terms  were  emph^yed 
synonymously  —  was  the  material  errors  which  necessarily 
followed  from  its  exclusively  a-prioristic  method ;  was  the 
authoritative  tone  which  it  assumed  towards  the  leaders  of 
modern  science,  Copernicus,  Newton,  and  Lavoisier;  was 
its  presumptuous  attempt  to  withdraw  the  hypotheses  of 
metaphysics  from  the  supreme  jurisdiction  of  facts.  If 
the  philosophical  mind  (die  spekidative  Vernunft)  per- 
ceives truth  by  an  immediate  and  instinctive  intuition, 
whereas  experience  discovers  it  step  by  step  only,  then  its 
oracles,  precisely  because  they  are  immediate,  i.  e.,  unproved, 
and  wholly  unaccounted  for,  need  the  counter-signature  of 
experience  in  order  to  have  the  force  of  laws  in  the  scien- 
tific sphere.  The  immediate  and  spontaneous,  as  Hegel 
himself  declares,  is  never  definitive,  but  the  starting-point 
of  an  evolution.  Hence,  a  priori  speculation,  as  he  con- 
ceives and  pursues  it,  cannot  be  the  final  form  of  science, 
but  should,  at  the  very  least,  be  verified  by  experience, 
and,  in  case  of  need,  be  corrected  by  criticism.  Moreover, 
the  defects  of  the  Hegelian  method  and  the  errors  of  fact 
following  from  it  are  due  to  the  rationalistic  prejudice 
of  which  the  system  is  the  classical  expression.  According 
to  Hegel,  the  absolute  is  idea,  thought,  reason,  and  nolhing 
hut  that;  whence  he  concludes  that  the  idea,  or,  as  tlie 
School  says,  the  form^  is  also  the  content,  the  matter^  of 
things.  When  he  assumes  that  the  ideal  tvorld  of  science 
can  be  deduced  from  reason  alone,  it  is  because,  according 
to  him,  the  real  ivorld,  the  world  of  leings,  is  derived  from 
reason  and  reason  alone.  Now  the  absolute,  or  at  least  — 
since  the  absolute  is  unknowable  as  such  —  the  primary 
phenomenon  (das  UriJlidnomoi)  is  not  thought,  intelli- 
gence, reason,  but  will.^     Thought  is  a  mode  of  the  cre- 

1  See  §§  68  and  71. 


HERBART  535 

ative  activity  of  things  ;  it  is  not  their  iirinciple}  It 
follows  that  the  Iinowlcd(jc  of  tilings  does  not  come  from 
pure  thought,  but  from  thought  supported  and  governed 
by  experience. 

§  67.     Herbart^ 

Kant,  the  master,  protested  against  the  absolute  idealism 
of  his  "  false  disciples,"  and  opposed  to  it  his  ideo-realism, 
which  distinguishes  between  the  form  and  the  matter  of 
our  knowledge,  considering  the  form  alone  as  given  a 
priori^  and  the  content,  the  matter,  as  solely  and  necessarily 
furnished  by  the  outer  and  inner  sense.  Reason  produces 
a  priori  the  categories  of  quality,  quantity,  causality,  and 
measure,  which  are  indispensable  to  the  knowledge  of  na- 
ture ;  but  it  cannot  produce  a  priori  the  ideas  of  iron,  light, 
pleasure,  and  pain,  w^hich  experience  alone  supplies.  Ex- 
perience has  its  a  priori  conditions,  which  pure  sensation- 
alism erroneously  denies ;  but  experience  alone  gives  us 
complete  and  concrete  ideas  properly  so-called,  while  the 
categories,  which  reason  produces  a  priori^  are  not,  strictly 
speaking,  ideas,  but  mere  frames  for  our  ideas  :  which  is  an 
entirely  different  thing.  Schelling  himself  concedes  that, 
in  the  last  analysis,  everything  comes  from  experience,  al- 
though experience  presupposes  a  priori  conditions  without 

1  According  to  tlie  Christian  dogma  itself,  which  Hogcl  pi'ofesses 
to  translate  into  philosophical  language,  the  \6yos  is  created  and  is  not 
the  "  Father." 

^  [Briefer  philosophical  writings,  etc.,  ]>uljlished  l)y  (i.  Ifarton- 
stein,  :i  vols.,  Leipsie,  1812;  complete  works,  eil.  l>y  G-  Ilartenstein, 
12  vols.,  Leipsie,  1850  ft".  ;  complete  works,  ed.  by  K.  Ktdirbach,  Lan- 
gensalza,  18S2  ff. ;  pedagogical  works,  ed.  l)y  O.  AVillmann,  2  vols., 
2d  ed.,  Leipsie,  1877.  Cf.  G.  Ilartenstein,  Die  Probleme  und  Grnnd- 
lehren  der  (dlrjeineinen  MelapJnjslL;  Li'ipsic,  18:)(j;  .1.  Kaftan,  Solleii 
und  Sein  (a  critique  of  Ilcrhart),  Leipsie,  1872;  .1.  Capesius,  Die 
Metaph'jsik  Ilerbart's,  Leipsie,  1878;  Th.  Uihot,  Fai  psr/rholoffie  nlle- 
mande  cuntemporaine,  I'aris,  1879;  Kngl.  tr.  by  IJaldwin,  1880.  —  Tii.J 


536  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

which  it  would  be  impossible.  That  is,  in  truth,  the  real 
teaching  of  Kant. 

A  number  of  thinkers,  and  particularly  Johann  Fried- 
rich  Herbart  (1776-1841),  professor  at  Konigsberg  and 
Gbttingen,  followed  the  master.  They  occupied  a  position 
between  Hegel,  whose  star  sank  in  1830,  and  Locke,  whose 
empiricism,  which  had  been  temporarily  checked  by  the 
idealism  of  the  Restoratioii,  only  to  reappear,  more  power- 
ful than  ever,  as  positivism,  after  the  setting  of  the  Hegel- 
ian sun.  The  most  important  philosophical  writings  of 
Herbart  are :  Allgemeine  Metaphysik  ^  and  Fsychologie  als 
Wissenschaft,  neu  gegrlindet  auf  Erfahruny,  Metaphysihy 
und  Matliematik?'  What  especially  characterizes  them  is 
their  systematic  opposition  to  the  principles,  method,  and 
conclusions  of  Hegel.  Things  are  not  merely  our  tlioughts, 
as  idealism  holds  ;  they  exist  really  and  independently  of  the 
reason  which  thinks  them  (realism  in  the  modern  sense). 
Hence,  the  problem  of  philosophy  is  not  to  construct  the 
universe,  but  to  accept  it  as  it  exists,  and  to  explain  its 
mechanism,  so  far  as  that  can  be  done.  Observation  and 
experience  form  the  indispensable  foundation  of  specula- 
tion. A  philosophy  not  based  on  the  positive  data  of  science 
is  hollow.  It  has  merely  the  import  of  a  poem,  and  we 
cannot  concede  to  it  any  scientific  value.  Herbart  restores 
to  philosophy  the  boundaries  which  Kantian  criticism  had 
declared  impassable. 

Philosophy  is  defined  as  the  elaboration  of  the  concepts 
which  underlie  the  different  sciences.^  Such  general 
ideas  *  are  not  free  from  contradictions,  and  should  there- 
fore be  revised.  This  work  is  the  real  business  of  the 
metaphysician. 

^  Complete  Works  (Hartenstein),  vols.  III.  and  IV. 
2  Works,  vols.  V.  and  VI.     Cf.  AVillm,  op.  cit.,  vol.  IV.     [His  Lehr- 
buck  der  Psychologie  has  been  translated  by  M.  K.  Smith,  1891.] 

*  Lehrbuch  zur  Einleitung  in  die  Philosophie.  vol.  I.,  ch.  2. 

*  For  example,  the  ideas  of  cause,  space,  and  the  ego. 


HERBART  637 

The  contradictions  which  philosophy  is  asked  to  resolve 
have  been  ascertained  by  the  Eleatics,  the  Sceptics,  and 
Hegel.  But  Zeno  of  Elea,  instead  of  resolving  them,  con- 
sidered them  insoluble,  and  hence  inferred  that  nothing  real 
corresponds  to  them.  The  Sceptics  saw  in  this  a  reason  for 
repudiating  metaphysics.  Hegel,  at  last,  does  not  deny 
that  our  ideas  are  contradictory,  but  by  a  tour  de  force  un- 
heard of  in  the  liistory  of  philosophy,  accepts  the  contradic- 
tion without  reserve,  and  declares  that  it  forms  the  very 
essence  of  thought  and  being.  That  is,  he  pretends  to  dis- 
pense with  the  principle  of  contradiction.  But  we  cannot, 
with  impunity,  violate  the  law  which  has  governed  human 
thought  from  the  very  beginning,  and  we  shall  have  to 
reckon  with  it  as  long  as  reason  is  reason.  The  Hegelian 
paradox  is  not  a  solution.  Scepticism  has  its  raison  d'etre  ; 
it  is  even  necessary,  in  a  certain  measure ;  it  forms  the 
starting-point,  in  the  history  of  thought,  of  the  great  philoso- 
phies (Socrates,  Descartes,  Kant).  But  to  remain  sceptical 
is  to  give  proof  of  the  incompetence  of  speculation.  Doubt 
m  its  most  absolute  form,  scepticism  extended  even  to  the 
existence  of  things,  is  refuted  by  one  of  the  most  simple 
reflections.  Though  it  may  be  doubted  that  things  exist, 
it  is  beyond  douht  that  they  a2)pear  to  exist.  This  appear- 
ance (phenomenon)  is  absolutely  certain,  and  the  most  obsti- 
nate sceptic  cannot  doubt  it.  The  phenomenon  exists. 
If  nothing  existed,  nothing  could  appear  to  exist.  But, 
though  we  assume  what  is  evident,  namely,  the  existence 
of  things,  it  is  not  so  certain  that  tliC}'  are  what  we  think 
they  are,  that  they  exist  as  they  are  thouglit  (yEncsidenuis, 
Sextus),  that  they  are  iii  time  and  space,  connected  by  the 
tie  of  causality  (Hume,  Kant).  This  doubt,  founded,  as  it 
is,  on  the  contradictions  and  obscurities  which  even  the 
most  superficial  reflection  can  discover  in  our  ideas,  is 
perfectly  legitimate,  provided  it  provokes  philosophical 
thought 


538  MODERN   PHILOSOPHY 

The  business  of  philosophy,  as  we  have  said,  consists 
essentially  in  revising  and  correcting  our  general  ideas,  in 
freeing  them  from  the  contradictions  which  they  contain.^ 
The  ideas  of  extension,  duration,  matter^  movement,  inher- 
ence^ causality,  and  egoity,  particularly,  require  elabora- 
tion. The  idea  of  extension,  duration,  matter,  is  the  idea 
of  multiple  unity  (hence  the  supposed  antinomies  of  rational 
cosmology).  To  change,  to  become,  and  to  move  means  to 
be  and  not  to  be.  By  the  notion  of  inherence  we  assign 
manifold  properties  to  the  same  substance ;  i.  e.,  we  affirm 
that  one  thing  is  several  things  (colored,  odorous,  sapid, 
liquid),  that  unity  is  not  one.  The  notion  of  cause,  like- 
wise, is  contradictory  from  every  point  of  view.  We  both 
affirm  that  the  thing  modified  by  an  external  cause  is  the 
same  as  before,  and  that  it  is  not  the  same.  When  we  speak 
of  the  self-determination  of  the  subject  (Leibniz),  we  be- 
come involved  in  the  no  less  flagrant  contradiction  that  a 
being  is  both  active  and  passive,  i.  e.,  that  it  is  not  one  but 
two.  Finally,  the  notion  of  the  ego  with  its  diverse  facul- 
ties is  as  contradictory  as  the  idea  of  inherence,  of  which  it 
is  an  application.  In  all  these  notions  there  is  a  confusion 
of  being  and  non-being,  the  one  and  the  many,  affirmation 
and  negation,  i.  e.,  of  two  things  which  exclude  each  other, 
and  which  thought  should  clearly  separate,  Hegel  to  the 
contrary  notwithstanding. 

From  the  confusion  of  two  contraries  arises  the  idea  of 
limited  and  relative  being.  This  conception  Herbart  un- 
conditionally rejects.  Being,  according  to  him,  admits  of 
neither  negation  nor  limitation.  It  is  absolute  position, 
Avholly  excluding  diversity  of  properties,  divisibility,  limi- 
tation, and  negation.  It  cannot  be  conceived  either  as 
quantity  or  continuous  magnitude,  or  as  being  in  space 
and  time  (Kant).  It  is  what  Plato  and  Parmenides  called 
the  One,  what  Spinoza  named  Substance ;  but  it  differs 
1  Einleitung  in  die  Philosophie,  pp.  194-202;  Metaphysik,  p.  8. 


HEEBART  539 

from  the  Eleatic  principle  in  that  it  exists  independently 
of  thought,  and  from  Spinoza's  Substance  in  that  it  is 
not  one.  There,  are  according  to  Herbart,  a  plurality 
of  reed  beings  or  realities  (Beale)^  and,  since  each  reality  is 
absolute  position,  a  plurality  of  absolute  beings;  which 
seems  contradictory,  but  is  not  so  because  extended  beings 
alone  limit  each  other,  and  the  realities  are  supposed  to  be 
inextended.  Tlie  realities  of  Herbart,  therefore,  closely 
resemble  Leibniz's  monads  ;  but  they  differ  from  them  in 
an  essential  respect :  the  "  monads "  are  complex  unities 
endowed  witli  many  properties,  having  their  inner  states, 
their  moditications,  and  their  immanent  development ;  the 
realities  of  Herbart  are  absolutely  simple ;  they  have  only 
one  single  property ;  they  suffer  no  internal  change,  they 
are  immutable. 

Real  being  (das  Eecde),  then,  is  not  what  the  senses  show 
us ;  for  the  objects  perceived  by  the  senses  have  many 
properties.  What  follows  ?  Why,  the  sensible  object 
(iron,  silver,  oxygen)  contains  as  many  realities  as  it  has 
distinct  properties. 

Thus  the  difhculty  involved  in  the  notion  of  inherence 
is  resolved.  This  idea  is  contradictory  only  when  applied 
to  the  real  being  (Kant's  thing-iii-itself)  ;  it  is  not  so  when 
applied  to  the  plienomonal  being,  or  the  thing  presented 
by  the  senses.  The  latter  is  always  an  intcyndion  of  real 
beings  in  greater  or  smaller  numbers,  never  a  unitary  real 
being. 

The  ideas  of  causality  and  cliange  are  explained  in  the 
same  way.  The  relation  of  causality  cannot  obtain  either 
between  two  real  beings  (external  causality),  or  between 
a  real  being  and  its  supposed  cliaracteristics  (immanent 
causality)  ;  for  each  real  being  exists  ahsolutcly  (by  itself), 
while  immanent  causality  (for  example,  iron  considered 
as  the  cause  nf  lis  properties)  divides  the  one  into  many, 
i.  e.,  contradicts  the  notion  of  real  being.    Hence,  causality 


540  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

cannot  signify  anything  but  reality  and,  at  the  utmost,  self- 
preservation  (^Selhsterhaltung^ .^ 

Change  cannot  be  assumed  except  under  certain  reser- 
vations. Change  as  affecting  the  real  beings  is  out  of  the 
question  in  metaphysics.  Not  the  substances,  but  only 
their  mutual  relations,  are  incessantly  modified.  Geometry 
shows  that  a  thing  can  change  relatively  to  another  thing 
without  changing  itself :  the  tangent  of  a  circle  ABC 
becomes  the  radius  of  another  circle  D  E  F.  The  same  is 
true  of  music :  the  same  note  is  true  or  false,  according  to 
its  relation  to  other  notes.  In  pharmacy  we  observe  the 
same  fact :  one  and  the  same  plant  is  both  a  poison  and  a 
remedy. 

But  though  the  substances  themselves  do  not  change, 
their  mutual  relations  change.  The  real  beings,  though 
absolute,  are  related  to  each  other.  In  order  to  understand 
this,  we  must  imagine  them  to  exist  in  a  space  which  is 
not  phenomenal  space,  but  wliich  Herbart  calls  intelligible 
space.  In  this  space  two  monads  can  occupy  different 
points,  and  then  there  is  no  relation  between  them ;  but 
they  can  also,  by  means  of  a  movement  of  whose  laws  we 
are  ignorant,  occupy  the  same  point.  Nothing  can  hinder 
us  from  assuming  this,  since  we  are  not  here  dealing  with 
material  atoms.  Two  or  more  substances  which  occupy 
the  same  point  interpenetrate  (as  though  penetration  did 
not  presuppose  extension).  Substances  which  thus  inter- 
penetrate may  be  of  the  same  quality ;  they  may  differ  in 
quality,  or,  finally,  they  may  be  opposite  in  quality  (differ- 
ence between  Herbart  and  the  Greek  atomists).  If  they 
are  identical  in  quality,  their  interpenetration  produces  no 

1  Here  Herbart  contradicts  himself;  for  self-preservation  is  a  re- 
flective act,  which  divides  the  monad  in  two,  —  namely,  into  a  subject 
which  preserves,  and  an  object  which  is  preserved.  Now,  does  Her- 
bart believe  that  he  can  in  no  case  contradict  himself,  because  that 
would  be  a  reflective  act,  a  division  in  the  monad,  an  impossibility? 


HERBART  541 

change  in  their  respective  modes  of  being ;  but  if  the  sub- 
stance B,  which  comes  to  occupy  the  place  of  the  sub- 
stance A,  is  of  a  different  or  opposite  quality,  there  will  be 
a  conflict  between  the  two  monads,  since  two  contraries 
cannot  coexist  in  one  and  the  same  point.  Each  will  tend 
to  preserve  itself;  it  will  resist  its  rival,  and  affirm  its 
indestructible  individuality. 

Thus  we  may  explain  phenomena  in  general,  and  the 
phenomenon  of  thought  in  particular.  The  ego  ceases 
to  be  a  contradictory  idea  when  we  give  up  regarding  it 
as  a  unity  composed  of  different  faculties,  —  a  multiple 
unity,  i.  e.,  a  miity  which  is  not  a  unity.  The  ego  has  not 
many  functions,  but  one  single  function:  it  tends  to  pre- 
serve itself  in  its  indestructible  originality.  That  is  its 
only  function,  but  it  varies  under  the  influence  of  the 
surroimdings ;  its  only  faculty  manifests  itself  in  a  number 
of  apparently  different  faculties,  according  as  the  soul  is 
solicited  by  similar,  different,  or  contrary  monads.  From 
such  a  conflict  thought  arises.  Thought  is  the  act  by 
which  the  subject  affirms  itself,  preserves  itself,  in  opposi- 
tion to  the  object  which  solicits  it.  It  is  infinitely  modi- 
fied, according  to  the  nature  of  the  object.  Hence,  the 
infinite  variety  of  om-  perceptions.  The  psychological  con- 
sciousness is  the  sum  of  relations  which  the  real  being 
called  ego  sustains  to  other  real  beings. 

Hence,  inner  perception  is  not  essential  to  the  soul ;  it 
is  a  mere  phenomenon,  produced  by  the  coming  together  of 
the  ego  and  other  realities,  —  a  resultant  of  the  combined 
actions  of  the  subject  and  the  ol)ject,  a  relation.  If  the 
soul  were  isolated  from  all  other  beings,  it  would  not 
tliink,  feel,  or  will.  Feeling  is  a  thought  arrested  by  other 
more  energ(;tic  thoughts ;  but  this,  in  turn,  may  overcome 
the  latter,  and  become  thought  wlu-n  tlie  ego  is  solicited 
by  other  o])jects.  Similarly,  will  is  notliing  l»ut  tliought 
(Spinoza) ;  moral  freedom  is  the  permanent  domination  o/ 


542  MODEEN  PHILOSOPHY 

reflected  thouglit  over  feeling,  i.  e.,  a  matter  of  equilib- 
rium. Psychical  life  is  a  mechanism,  the  laws  of  which 
are  the  same  as  those  of  statics  and  dynamics.  Psychology, 
properly  understood,  is  a  true  mechanism,  an  application 
of  arithmetic,  an  exact  science.' 

The  scientific  bent  of  Herbart's  philosophy,  and  particu- 
larly his  application  of  mathematics  to  the  science  of  the 
soul,  —  a  bold  and  original  attemj^t,  —  could  not  but  make 
him  the  centre  of  a  large  school.^    Hegel's  attitude  towards 

1  Works,  VII.,  pp.  129  if. 

2  Outside  of  the  lierbartian  school  proper  (Drobisch,  Hartenstein, 
Lazarus,  Steiuthal,  Striimpell,  Thilo,  Waitz,  Ziinmerniaun,  etc.),  the 
exact  philosophy  especially  influenced  the  psychology  of  Friedrich 
Eduard  Beneke  (1798-1854,  extraordinary  professor  at  Berlin)  and  the 
metaphysics  of  Hermann  Lotze  (1817-1881,  professor  at  Gcittingen  and 
latterly  at  Berlin),  author  of  MedizinhchePsycholociie,  18."')2,  1896  ;  Micro- 
co.wnis,  3  vols.,  18.56-64;  [Engl.  tr.  by  Hamilton  and  Jones,  Edin.  and 
N.Y.,  1884];  Logik,  1874  ;  [Engl.  tr.  by  B.  Bosanquet,  Oxford,  1884]; 
Metaphysik;  [Engl.  tr.  by  B.  Bosanquet,  2  vols.,  Oxford,  1884.  Lotze's 
Outlines,  by  G.  T.  Ladd,  Boston,  1885  ff.  On  Lotze  see  E.  v.  Hartmann, 
Lotze's  Philosophie,  Berlin,  1888  ;  O.  Caspari,  H.  Lotze,  etc.,  2d  ed.,  Bres- 
lau,  1894 ;  H.  Jones,  The  PhUosophy  of  Lotze,  New  York,  1895.  —  Tr.]. 
Beneke,  whose  originality  is  shown  in  his  theory  of  the  four  fundamental 
processes  of  soul-life,  rejects  the  psychological  atomism  of  the  master 
as  well  as  his  application  of  mathematics  to  the  science  of  the  mind. 
Lotze,  on  the  other  hand,  emphatically  protests  against  being  called  a 
Herbartian,  and  advances,  particularly  in  his  later  publications,  a  sys- 
tem of  concrete  spiritualism  which  is  dominated  by  the  moral  idea 
(Kant)  and  the  monistic  conception  (Spinoza).  He  is  the  author  of 
the  theory  of  local  signs  in  psychology.  In  short,  psychology  and  peda- 
gogy are  most  indebted  to  the  philosophy  of  Herbart.  Consult,  con- 
cerning the  influence  of  this  philosophy  on  psychology,  Ribot,  La  psy- 
chologic allemande  contemporaine,  Paris,  1879,  especially  chapter  II.  : 
Uecole  de  Herbart  et  la  psychologic  ethnographiqne.  [Other  disciples  of 
Herbart  are  :  F.  Exner,  G.  A.  Lindner  (Lehrbuch  der  empmschen  Psy- 
chologic, 6th  ed.,  Vienna,  1886,  Engl,  tr.  by  C.  De  Garmo,  Boston, 
1889)  ;  J.  Nahlowsky  {Das  Gcfuhlsleben,  2d  ed.,  Leipsic,  1884)  ; 
W.  Volkmann  (Lehrbuch  der  Psychologic,  4th  ed.,  Cothen,  1894). 
Organs  of  the  school :  Zeilschrifl  fur  exacte  Philosophie,  founded  1861, 


HERBART  543 

the  pioneers  of  modem  science  prejudiced  serious  thinkers 
against  idealism  and  drove  them  into  the  camp  of  exact 
metaphysics.  They  entered  this  school  for  want  of  a  better ; 
for  the  philosophy  of  Herbart,  which  undertook  to  free 
thought  from  all  contradictions,  AA-as  itself  full  of  the  most 
glaring  contrasts.  AVhile  Herbart's  ontology  declares  real 
being  to  be  simple  and  inextended,  his  psychology  is  based 
on  the  opposite  h\i^othesis.  His  theodicy,  which  is  per- 
fectly conservative,  and  his  teleology,  which  is  wholly  spir- 
itualistic, seriously  clash  with  his  paradoxical  theory  of  the 
multiple  absolute,  wliich  logically  culminates  in  polytheism, 
and  his  mechanism,  which  is  closel}'  akin  to  the  material- 
istic theories.  Moreover,  his  metaphysics  contains  the 
strangest  contradictions.  Reed  being  excludes  the  plurality 
of  properties,  change,  and  movement,  i.  e.,  in  brief,  life, 
and,  ultimately,  reality.  Real  reality.,  life,  activity,  is  ex- 
cluded from  the  sphere  of  beings,  and  Herbart's  Rcahn., 
instead  of  being  realities,  are  lifeless  abstractions,  scholastic 
entities,  and  nothing  more.  Furthermore,  his  monadology 
shares  all  the  disadvantages  of  the  Leibnizian  theory,  which 
serves  as  his  model.  Like  the  "  pulverized  universe  "  with 
which  he  presents  us,  his  pliilosoph}'  possesses  neither  the 
unity  nor  the  homogeneity  which  we  have  a  right  to  demand 
from  a  doctrine  claiming  to  be  a  metapliysic.  It  is,  in  every 
respect,  the  antipode  of  Hegelian  philosophy,  and,  provoked 
by  the  logicism  of  its  powerful  rival,  affects  to  ignore  the 
monistic  tendency. 

The  latter  reasserts  itself  in  Schopeuhaiu-r,  whose  })lii- 
losophy,  a  happy  mean  between  speculation  and  positive 
knowledge,  exercises  a  preponderating  iiinuciuc  on  uKxU'ru 
(ierman  thought. 

now  ('(litt'd  by  O.  Fliifjel ;  Zrilfchrifl  fdr  ]'SlJ,rrpxi/rhi)lofjIc  itnit  Sprnch 
wissenschaft,  founded  IS.jO,  edited  by  l^azurus  and  Steinthal.  —  -I'rO 


544  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

§  68.     Schopenhauer! 

Arthue  Schopenhauer,  the  son  of  a  banker  in 
Danzic,  and  Johanna  Schopenhauer,  an  authoress  formerly 
well-known  in  Germany,  was  born  1788,  He  studied  at 
Cxottingen  (1809-1811)  and  Berlin  (1811-1813),  taught  phi- 
losophy at  the  latter  institution  as  a  Privatdocent  from  1820 
to  1831,  then  abandoned  the  university  career,  and  spent 
the  remainder  of  his  life  at  Frankfort  on  the  Main,  where 
he  died  in  1860.  The  writings  which  established  his  repu- 
tation are  :  (1)  his  inaugural  dissertation,  Ueber  die  vier- 
fache  Wurzel  des  Satzes  vom  zureichenden  Grunde  ;  ^  (2)  Die 
Wdt  als  With  und  Vorstellung ;  ^  (3)  Ucher  den  Willen  in 
dcr  Natur  ;  ^  (4)  Die  leiden  GruiulproUeme  der  EtliiliJ'  He 
heard  the  lectures  of  Schulze  ^  at  Gcittingen  and  of  Fichte 

1  [Complete  Works,  ed.  by  J.  Frauenstiidt,  6  vols.,  Leipsic,  1873-74  ; 
2d  ed.,  1877  ;  ed.  by  E.  Grisebach,  Leipsic,  1890  ff. ;  ed.  by  R.  Sleiner, 
13  vols.,  Leipsic,  1894.  Cf.  J.  Frauenstiidt,  Briefe  uber  die  Sch-'sche 
Philosophies  Leipsic,  1854 ;  R.  Seydel,  Schopenhauer's  System,  Leipsic, 
1857  ;  Foucher  de  Careil,  Hec/el  et  Schopenhauer,  Paris,  1862  ;  R.  Haym, 
A.  Schopenhauer,  Berlin,  1864;  Th.  Ribot,  La  philosophie  de  Schopen- 
hauer, Paris,  1874  ;  H.  Zimmern,  Schopenhauer,  His  Life  and  Philosophy, 
London,  1876 ;  W.  Gwinner,  Sch.'s  Leben,  Leipsic,  1878 ;  W.  Wallace, 
Schopenhauer  (^Great  Writers  Series),  London,  1890  ;  J.  Sully,  Pessimistn, 
2d  ed.,  London,  1891 ;  K.  Fischer,  Arthur  Schopenhauer,  Heidelberg, 
1893.  — Tr.] 

2  1813  ;  2d  ed.,  1847  ;  3d  ed.,  1864.  [Transl.  (Fourfold  Boot  of  the 
Principle  of  Sufficient  Reason)  by  K.  Hillebrand  in  Bohn's  Library,  2d 
ed.,  1891  (the  same  volume  contains  the  tr.  of  On  the  Will  in  Nature). 
—  Tr.] 

8  Leipsic,  1819  ;  2d  ed.  in  2  vols.,  1844  ;  3d  ed.,  1859.  IThe  World 
as  Will  and  as  Idea,  tr.  by  R.  B.  Haldane  and  J.  Kemp,  3  vols.,  Lon- 
don and  Boston,  1884-86.] 

4  Frankfort,  1836  ;  2d  ed.,  18.54  ;  3d  ed.,  1867.  [On  the  Will  in  Na- 
ture, Bohn's  Library,  see  above.] 

6  \_The  Tivo  Fundamental  Problems  of  Ethics.']  Frankfort,  1841; 
2d  ed.,  1860.  [Schopenhauer's  Essays,  selected  and  translated  by  Bax, 
Bohn's  Library.     See  also  T.  B.  Saunders's  translations.  —  Tk.] 

6  See  §  63, 


SCHOPENHAUER  545 

in  Berlin,  and  devoted  himself,  particularly,  to  the  study  of 
Kant,  Plato,  and  Buddhism,  so  far  as  tills  was  known  in 
Europe.  To  Kant,  Fichte,  and  Schelling  he  owes  his  car- 
dinal doctrine,  which  conceives  the  will  as  the  absolute,  to 
Plato,  his  theory  of  Ideas  or  stages  of  the  voluntary  phe- 
nomenon, to  Buddhism  his  pessimistic  bent  and  his  doctrine 
of  the  negation  of  the  will. 

His  chief  work,  Die  Welt  ah  Wille  unci  Vorstellung^  opens 
with  a  glowing  tribute  to  criticism.  In  asserting,  with 
Kant,  that  the  world  is  my  idea  {die  Welt  ist  vieine  Vorstel- 
lung),  he  does  not  deny  the  reality  of  the  world  j  he  distin- 
guishes between  the  world  as  it  is  in  itself,  apart  from  my 
senses  and  my  intelligence,  and  the  world  as  I  see  and 
conceive  it,  i.  e.,  the  phenomenal  world.  The  phenomenal 
world  is  my  perception,  my  idea,  the  product  of  my  intel- 
lectual organization.  Indeed,  if  I  were  differently  organ- 
ized, the  world  would  be  different,  or,  at  least,  would  seem 
different ;  it  would  consist  (for  me)  of  different  phenomena. 
As  a  reality,  it  exists  independently  of  me,  but  as  an  object 
of  sensibility  and  the  understanding,  or,  in  a  word,  as  a 
phenomenon,  it  depends  on  the  s^ihject  which  perceives  it : 
it  is  a  wholly  relative  thing,  created  by  the  ego  and  the  a 
priori  conditions  of  thought.^ 

On  the  other  hand,  consciousness  emphatically  declares 
that  behind  this  phenomenal  world,  the  product  of  our 
organization,  there  is  a  higher  reality,  which  does  not  de- 
pend on  us,  an  absolute,  a  thing-in-4tsclf.  ICant  acknowl- 
edges the  existence  of  the  thing-in-itself  ;  but  wliathe  gives 
with  one  hand  he  takes  back  with  tlie  other.  He  denies  to 
the  understanding  the  right  to  apply  to  this  thing  any  of 
its  categories,  maintains  that  reason  is  incapal)le  of  knowing 
it,  and,  consequently,  regards  the  plicnomenal  world,  i.  e., 
in  the  last  analysis,  the  thinking  subject,  as  alone  know- 
al)lc;  for  the  itlicndinriioii  ism//  thought,  nothing  but  ?/i^ 

1   Die  W<U  'ii-<  Wille  und  Vorstelluiuj,  vol.  I.,  pj).  H  il. 
35 


546  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

tliouo-lit.  It  is  true,  the  subject  canuot  get  beyond  itself, 
identify  itself  with  what  it  is  not,  assimilate  things  as  they 
are  in  themselves.  But  it  is  equally  true  that  the  belief  in 
the  existence  of  the  world  irresistibly  forces  itself  upon  us ; 
it  is,  consequently,  true  that  the  perception  which  we  have 
of  ourselves  gives  us,  at  the  very  least,  an  image  of  what 
the  things  outside  of  us  are.  It  would,  undoubtedly,  be 
impossible  for  me  to  know  anything  of  the  essence  of  ohjects 
if  I  were  merely  a  subject.  But  I  am  both  the  subject  and 
the  object  of  my  thought,  as  I  am  the  object  of  the  thought 
of  others.  I  am  conscious  of  being  an  object  among  other 
objects.  Thus  the  chasm  made  by  criticism  between  the 
thinking  subject  and  the  things  themselves  is  partly 
bridged.  I  have  the  right  to  convert  the  proposition  :  I  (the 
subject)  am  an  object,  and  to  say ;  most  probably  —  Schop- 
enhauer,  the  pupil  of  Schulze  the  sceptic,  does  not  lay  claim 
to  absolute  knowledge  ^  —  the  object  (all  objects,  the  entire 
objective  world)  is  what  I  am ;  its  essence  is  analogous  to 
mine. 

This  ancdofjy  of  all  beings,  which  dogmatism  afifirmed  in 
Leibniz,  we  must  assume  even  from  the  standpoint  of  criti- 
cism. We  have  the  right,  even  as  Kantians,  to  judge  things 
according  to  what  we  find  in  ourselves.  Only,  we  must 
make  sure  of  what  in  us  is  truly  essential,  original,  and 
fundamental.  According  to  Descartes,  Spinoza,  Leibniz, 
Hegel,  and  all  the  rationalists,  this  essential  thing  is  thought., 
intellect.  Hence,  inasmuch  as  all  existing  things  are  anal- 
ogous, Leibniz  concludes  that  all  beings  perceive  and  think 
in  a  certain  degree ;  but  experience  does  not  confirm  this 
hypothesis.  Hegel,  likewise,  regards  thought  as  the  uni- 
versal typical  phenomenon.  According  to  Schopenhauer, 
the  essential  and  fundamental  thing  in  us  is  the  Will, 
whereas  thought  is  but  a  derived  or  secondary  phenomenon, 
an  accident  of  will.     Now,  we  have  every  reason  to  believe, 

1  Die  Welt  ah  Wille  unci  Vovslellung,  vol.  IL,  chap.  L.,  pp.  736  ff. 


SCHOPENHAUER  547 

and  experience  strikingly  j)roves,  that  what  is  essential  and 
fundamental  to  us  is  also  the  essence,  the  ultimate  principle 
of  the  nature  of  all  other  beings.  We  are  essentially  will, 
and  the  entire  universe,  considered  in  its  essence,  is  a  will 
that  ohjectifies  itself,  gives  itself  a  body  or  a  real  existence. 

In  the  first  place,  my  body  is  the  product  of  will;  it 
is  my  will  become  phenomenon,  my  desire-to-be  made  vis- 
ible.^ And  the  objects  which  I  perceive  through  it  are 
like  my  body:  all  are  phenomena,  manifestations,  pro- 
ducts of  a  will  analogous  to  mine.  The  will,  the  principle 
of  everything  that  exists,  is  sometimes  pure,  i.  e.,  not  con- 
nected with  an  intellect.  In  this  case  it  is  identical  with 
irritability,  the  m3'sterious  force  which  governs  the  circula- 
tion of  the  blood,  the  digestion,  and  the  secretions.  Some- 
times it  is  connected  with  the  intellectual  phenomenon ;  it 
is  conscious,  and  in  this  case  it  is  what  we  commonly  call 
will  and  free-wilL  Will,  in  this  special  sense,  is  irritability 
acting  knowingly,  and  according  to  motives,  as,  for  example, 
when  I  raise  my  arm.  Sometimes,  again,  our  acts  are  both 
the  result  of  irritability  and  motived  will ;  the  pupil  is  con- 
tracted Avhen  it  is  excited  by  too  much  light ;  this  is  the 
effect  of  irritability,  a  rejlex  act ;  but  it  is  also  voluntarily 
contracted  when  we  will  to  observe  a  very  small  object. 
The  power  of  conscious  will  is  immense.  We  may  cite  the 
cases  of  negroes  who  committed  suicide  by  arresting  their 
respiration.  But,  whether  it  be  conscious  or  unconscious, 
irritability  or  free  activity,  and  however  diverse  and  in- 
numerable its  manifestations  may  be,  will  as  sueli  is  one. 

AVhether  it  is  conscious  or  not,  the  will  acts  in  us  witliout 
interruption.  The  ])u(\\  and  tlie  intellect  -grow  tired  and 
need  rest;  the  will  alone  is  indefatigable;  it  acts  even 
during  sleep  and  causes  dreams.  It  acts  in  tlie  Ijody  not 
only  during  its  formation,  ])ut  exists  prior  to  the  body. 

1  Die  Well  nls  WUle  uml  VurslellHng,  vol.  I.,  §  IS,  1  IS  ff.  ;  H.,  cliiip. 
XX.,-J77ff. 


548  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

The  will  forms  and  organizes  it  according  to  its  needs ;  the 
will,  in  the  embryo,  transforms  a  part  of  the  cerebral  sub- 
stance into  a  retina  in  order  to  receive  optical  phenomena. 
The  mucous  membrane  of  the  thoracic  canal  is  transformed 
into  lungs,  because  the  body  wills  to  assimilate  the  oxygen 
of  the  atmosphere.  The  capillary  system  produces  genital 
organs,  because  the  individual  in  process  of  formation  wills 
to  propagate  the  species. 

Consider  the  organization  of  animals,  and  you  will  always 
find  that  it  conforms  to  their  mode  of  life.  It  seems,  in- 
deed, at  fust  sight,  as  though  their  mode  of  life,  their  habits, 
dejjended  on  their  organization ;  in  the  order  of  time  the 
organization  precedes  the  mode  of  life.  It  seems  that  the 
bird  flies  because  it  has  wings,  that  the  ox  butts  because  it 
has  horns.  But  intelligent  observation  shows  the  contrary. 
We  observe  that  many  animals  manifest  the  will  to  use 
organs  which  they  do  not  yet  possess.  The  goat  and  the 
ox  butt  before  they  have  horns ;  the  wild-boar  attacks  with 
that  part  of  his  snout  where  tusks  are  going  to  be ;  he  does 
not,  as  might  be  done,  fight  with  his  teeth.  Hence,  the 
will  is  tlie  principle  of  organization,  the  centre  of  creative 
evolution.  Wild  beasts  that  desire  to  tear  their  prey  to 
pieces,  to  live  on  plunder  and  on  blood,  have  teeth  and  huge 
claws,  strong  muscles,  piercing  eyes  (eagles,  condors)  ;  such, 
on  the  other  hand,  as,  by  instinct,  do  not  desire  to  fight, 
but  to  seek  safety  in  flight,  develop,  instead  of  organs  of 
defence,  a  fine  sense  of  hearing,  slender  and  agile  legs 
(stags,  roe-bucks,  gazelles).  The  bird  of  the  moor,  which 
desires  to  feed  on  reptiles,  has  particularly  well-developed 
legs,  neck,  and  beak  (stork,  pelican) ;  owls  desire  to  see  in 
the  dark,  and  so  have  enormous  j^upils,  soft,  silken  down, 
in  order  not  to  awaken  the  animal  desired  for  prey.  The 
porcupine,  the  hedgehog,  and  the  tortoise  cover  themselves 
with  a  shell,  because  they  do  not  desire  to  flee.  The  cuttle- 
fish conceals  itself  in  a  brownish  liquid  ;  the  ai,  in  order  to 


SCHOPENHAUER  649 

hide  from  its  enemies,  assumes  the  appearance  of  a  tree- 
trunk  covered  with.  moss.  As  a  rule,  especially  in  the 
desert,  the  animal  assumes  the  color  wliich  least  distin- 
guishes it  froju  the  surroundings  in  which  it  lives,  because 
it  desires  to  escape  the  pursuit  of  the  hunter.  In  all  these 
cases,  the  will,  or,  more  correctly,  the  will-to-be,  the  will-to- 
exist,  is  the  principal  agent.^ 

Where  none  of  these  means  suffices,  the  will  provides 
itself  with  a  still  more  efficient  safeguard,  the  most  efficient 
of  all,  intelli(jence^  which,  in  man,  supersedes  all  the  others. 
The  intellect  is  all  the  more  powerful  a  weapon  because  it 
can  conceal  the  will  under  false  appearances,  while,  in  the 
case  of  animals,  the  intent  is  alwaj'S  manifest  and  alwaj-s  of 
a  definite  character. 

The  will  plays  the  same  part,  although  this  is  not  so  ap- 
parent, in  the  vegetable  kingdom.  Here,  too,  e\'ery thing 
is  strivi/ig,  desire,  unconscious  a/ppetitlon.  The  tree-top,  de- 
siring light,  invariably  tends  to  assume  a  vertical  position 
unless  it  finds  it  elsewhere.  The  root,  which  desires  moist- 
ure, often  seeks  for  it  in  the  most  roundaljout  manner.  The 
seed  planted  in  the  ground  will  invariably  push  its  stem 
upwards,  its  roots  downwards,  in  whatever  position  it  may 
be  placed.  The  toadstool  performs  real  feats  of  strength, 
wonderful  acts  of  will,  breaking  through  walls,  splitting 
stones,  in  order  to  reach  the  light.  Potatoes  growing  in  a 
cellar  infallibly  turn  their  sprouts  to  tlie  light.  Climbing 
plants  seek  supports  and  make  visil>le  efforts  to  reach  and 
catch  hold  of  them.  Hence,  here,  as  in  tlie  animal  king- 
dom, everything  is  reduced  to  will,  to  that  elementary  will 
wliieh  we  call  iiritability.  There  is  no  essential  difference 
between  irrital)ility  and  the  faculty  of  In-iiig  (k'tcniiiiicd  by 
motives;  for  the  motive  regularly  produces  an  iniliition 
whicli  sets  the  will  in  motion.     Tlic  [tlant  turns  to  the  sun 

^  See  the  critiim*'  of  tliis  tlu'ory  in  §  'i!*- 

2  Die  W>:lt  ah   WlHt  nml  Vursldhuuj,  vol.  I.,  §  27,  Y\k  17!)  ff. 


550  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

by  irritation ;  the  animal  likewise ;  only,  the  animal  is  en- 
dowed with  intelligence,  and  knows  what  effect  the  sun 
produces  on  the  body. 

Considering  its  manifestations,  it  is  hardest  to  recognize 
the  will  in  the  two  extremes  of  creation,  i.  e.,  on  the  one 
hand,  in  man,  on  the  other,  in  the  mineral  kingdom.  Every 
animal,  every  vegetable,  has  its  fixed  character ;  indeed,  we 
can  tell  in  advance  what  to  expect  of  it.  When  we  are 
dealing  with  a  dog,  or  a  cat,  or  a  fox,  we  know  at  once  that 
the  doo-  will  be  faithful,  the  cat  treacherous,  and  the  fox 
cunnino-.  We  can  predict  with  certainty  that  a  cactus  ivill 
desire  dry  surroundings,  and  a  myosotis  moist  soil.  We 
know  at  what  time  a  particular  plant  will  bud,  when  it  will 
bloom,  and  bear  fruit.  But  in  man  and  in  the  minerals,  at 
the  summit  and  at  the  base  of  creation,  the  character  is 
full  of  mysteries.  We  cannot  discover  it  by  direct  observa- 
tion, and  we  can  know  it  only  after  prolonged  experience. 
This  is  a  difficult  procedure,  especially  in  the  case  of  man, 
who  can  conceal  his  character,  and  disguise  the  particular 
tendency  of  his  will.  Nevertheless,  we  find  in  man  clearly 
marked  tendencies,  inclinations,  and  propensities,  while  the 
mineral  kingdom  has  its  constant  tendencies  also.  The 
magnetic  needle  invariably  points  to  the  north.  Bodies 
always  fall  in  a  vertical  line,  and  we  call  this  the  law  of 
weio-ht  or  gravitation.  Liquid  matter  obeys  the  same  law 
in  following  the  descending  x)lane.  Certain  substances  in- 
variably expand  under  the  influence  of  heat,  and  contract 
under  the  influence  of  cold ;  certain  ones  form  crystals  when 
acted  upon  by  other  substances  with  which  they  come  in 
contact.  Particularly  in  chemistry  do  we  observe  striking 
examples  of  such  constant  wills,  sympathies,  and  antipa- 
thies.i     Moreover,  this  truth  that  the  will  lies  at  the  basis 

1  The  objection  is  made  that  this  is  equivalent  to  anthropomorphiz- 
ing nature ;  but  if  nature  produced  man,  did  it  not  create  him  in  its 
own  image  ? 


SCHOPENHAUER  651 

of  all  things  is  instinctively  proclaimed  in  a  nnniber  of 
characteristic  expressions.  Thus  we  say:  the  tire  will  not 
burn ;  the  water  wants  to  get  out ;  le  fer  est  avide  d' ox y gene. 
These  are  not  mere  figures  of  speech,  but  must  be  taken 
literally.i 

Hence,  that  which  the  Eleatics  call  the  tV  koI  irav ;  Spi- 
noza, substance ;  Schelling,  the  absolute ;  Schopenhauer 
calls  will.  But  he  denies,  with  pantheism,  that  this  prin- 
ciple is  a  person.  He  regards  will  as  the  unconscious  force 
which  produces  specific  beings,  individuals  living  in  space 
and  in  time.  It  is  that  which,  not  being,  strives  to  be,  be- 
comes life,  objectifies  itself  in  individual  existence  ;  it  is,  in 
a  word,  the  will-to-be.  In  itself,  will  is  neither  subject  to 
the  laws  of  space  and  time,  nor  capable  of  being  known. 
But  its  manifestations  occur  in  time  and  in  space,  which 
together  form  the  i^rinciinum  individuationis.  At  least,  the 
intellect  conceives  its  manifestations  as  alongside  of  and 
following  each  other. 

The  phenomena  of  universal  will  succeed  each  other  in 
time  according  to  uniform  laws,  and  according  to  the  im- 
mutable t;ypes  which  Plato  calls  Ideas.  These  ideas  or  con- 
stant forms  in  which  the  will  objectifies  itself  in  the  same 
species,  form  an  ascending  scale,  from  the  most  elementary 
being  to  man.  They  are  independent  of  time  and  of  space, 
eternal  and  immutable,  like  the  will  itself,  while  individuals 
hccome  and  never  are.  Tlie  inferior  Ideas,  or  elementary 
stages  of  the  manifestation  of  will  are:  weight,  impenetra- 
bility, solidity,  fluidity,  elasticity,  electricity,  magnetism, 
chemism.  The  higher  stages  appi-ai-  in  tlie  organic  world, 
and  the  series  is  completed  in  man.  liiasniuch  as  the  dif- 
ferent stages  of  tlie  voluntary  phenomenon  contend  with 
each  other  for  the  matter,  space,  and  time  wliich  they  need, 
the  struf/rjlc  fur  existence  arises  wliidi  characterizes  nature. 
Each  organism  represents  (Ik-  idea  of  wliicli  it  is  tlie  copy, 

»   Ueher  d'u   Willni  in  der  Xalur,  :J(1  lmI..  \>\k  ilC  iT.  (LiiHj'iisllL). 


552  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

minus  the  amount  of  force  expended  to  overcome  the  in- 
ferior ideas  which  oppose  it.  The  more  the  organism  suc- 
ceeds in  overcoming  the  natural  forces  constituting  the 
lower  stages  of  life,  the  more  perfect  an  expression  is  it  of 
the  idea  which  it  represents,  and  the  nearer  it  comes  to 
what,  in  the  species,  is  called  beauty. ^ 

The  will  is  a  perpetual  desire  to  be,  the  never-ending 
source  of  the  phenomenal  world.  As  long  as  there  is  a 
will,  there  will  be  a  universe.  Individuals  come  and  go, 
but  the  will,  the  desire  which  produces  them,  is  eternal, 
like  the  specific  t3rpes  according  to  which  it  produces  them. 
Birth  and  death  do  not  apply  to  the  will,  but  only  to  its 
manifestations.  Our  innermost  essence,  the  will,  never 
dies.  The  religion  of  the  Hindoos,  Greeks,  and  Romans 
evidently  aims  to  give  expression  to  this  truth  in  the  joyful 
themes,  feasts,  and  dances  depicted  on  its  sarcophagi. 

Death  is  not  a  subject  for  grief.  On  the  contrary ;  it  is, 
like  birth,  the  consequence  of  the  universal  order.  But 
though  the  fact  that  we  have  in  ourselves  a  part  of  the  uni- 
versal will,  a  principle  that  cannot  die,  is  consoling,  because 
it  guarantees  us  a  certain  measure  of  immortality,  it  is  a 
source  of  sorrow  to  those  who  desire  to  free  themselves  from 
the  pains  of  existence  by  committing  suicide.  Since  death 
merely  destroys  the  phenomenon,  that  is,  the  body  and  never 
the  soul,  or  the  universal  will,  suicide  can  deliver  me  from 
my  phenomenal  existence  only  and  not  from  myself. 

The  will  is  the  endless  source  of  all  life,  and  hence  also 
the  origin  of  all  evil.  The  world  which  it  produces,  instead 
of  being  the  "  best  possible  world,"  is  the  worst  of  all.  In 
spite  of  what  the  poets  may  say,  animals  are  constantly 
preying  upon  each  other,  and  we  have  simply  to  balance 
the  sufferings  of  the  victims  against  the  pleasures  of  the 
victors,  to  be  convinced  that  the  amount  of  pain  exceeds 
the  pleasure.  History,  in  turn,  is  merely  an  interminable 
1   Welt  ah  Wille  unci  Vorstellung,  I.,  §§  30  ff.,  pp.  199  ff. 


SCHOPENHAUER  553 

series  of  murders,  robberies,  intrigues,  and  lies,  and  if  j^ou 
know  one  page  of  it,  you  know  them  all.  The  alleged  hu- 
man vu-tues,  the  love  of  labor,  perseverance,  temperance, 
frugalit)-,  are  nothing  but  refined  egoism,  splendida  vitia. 
There  is  no  virtue  worthy  of  the  name  except  j^ity  or  sym- 
pathy, the  principle  of  Buddhistic  morality,  and,  Spinoza  to 
the  contrary,  the  basis  of  all  true  morality.^  All  other  vir- 
tues are  grounded  on  the  will-to-live-and-to-enjoy.  And 
what  is  the  use  of  this  mighty  effort,  this  merciless,  never- 
ending  struggle?  Life  is  its  goal,  and  life  is  necessary, 
irremediable  suffering.  The  more  life  is  perfected,  i.  e., 
advanced  in  the  scale  of  intelligence,  the  unhappier  it  be- 
comes. Man  who  is  capable  of  conceiving  ideas  suffers 
infinitely  more  than  the  ignorant  brute.  Laugliter  and  tears 
are  peculiarly  human  phenomena. 

Since  being  is  synonymous  with  suffering,  positive  hap- 
piness is  an  eternal  Utopia.  Only  negative  \\'ell-being, 
consisting  in  the  cessation  of  suffering,  is  possible,  and  tliis 
can  be  realized  only  when  the  will,  enlightened  as  to  the 
inanity  of  life  and  its  pleasures  by  the  intelligence,  turns 
against  itself,  negates  itself,  renounces  being,  life,  and  en- 
joyment. This  doctrine  of  salvation  by  the  nerjation  of  the 
vnll  is  the  common  essence  of  the  Gosj)el  and  of  Buddhism.^ 
Both  Christianity  and  Buddha  hold  that  man  enters  the 
Avorld  as  a  sinner ;  he  is  the  product  of  two  blind  passions  ; 
for  marriage,  in  tlie  oi)inion  of  St.  Paul,  is  merely  a  conces- 
sion to  those  whose  will  is  not  strong  enough  to  coniiucr 
itself.  The  propagation  of  the  species  is  an  evil,  —  the 
feeling  of  shame  proves  it,  —  and  it  would  be  better  uot  to 
be  born  than  to  deseeud  into  iliis  woiM  df  liisi  aiul  pain  : 
such  is,  according  to  Seliopenliauei',  the  meaning  of  the 
dogma  of  original  sin  and  of  the  miraeulous  conception  of 
the  Savior.  'J'o  recognize  through  the  agency  of  the  intel- 
lect that  everything  in  our  willing  is  vanity,  is  what  Chiis- 

*   Uehtr  (Jus  Fundament  dcr  Mural,  §  18. 

2  Die  We.U  ah  W'dle  und  Vomteltunf/,  L,  310  IT.  (§§  53  iT.). 


554  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

lect  that  everything  in  onr  willing  is  vanity,  is  what  Chris- 
tianity calls  the  effect  of  grace,  whence  spring  the  love  of 
justice,  charity  towards  neighbors,  renunciation  of  self  and 
our  desires,  finally,  the  absolute  negation  of  will  (regenera- 
tion, conversion,  sanctification).  Jesus  is  the  type  of  man 
who  understands  his  vocation.  He  sacrifices  his  body, 
which  is  the  alSrmation  of  his  will ;  he  stifles  the  wiU-to-he 
in  himself  in  order  that  the  Holy  Ghost,  i.  e.,  the  spirit  of 
renunciation  and  charity,  may  take  its  place  in  the  world. 
Furthermore,  it  must  be  acknowledged  that  Catholicism, 
with  its  predilection  for  celibacy,  its  vows,  its  fasts,  its  alms, 
and  other  means  of  fettering  the  will,  has  remained  more 
faithful  to  the  spirit  of  the  Gospel  than  Protestantism. 
Christianity  is  true  in  such  of  its  teiichings  as  are  derived 
from  the  Aryan  Orient,  especially  in  its  doctrine  of  the  self- 
sacrifice  of  the  will  and  universal  charity ;  but  the  Jewish 
elements  ^  which  it  contains  are  erroneous,  particularly  its 
dogma  of  a  personal  God,  as  the  creator  of  the  world. 

To  snm  up,  Schopenhauer  concludes,^  my  philosophy 
does  not  presume  to  explain  the  ultimate  causes  of  the 
world;  nay,  it  confines  itself  to  the  facts  of  inner  and 
outer  experience,  which  are  accessible  to  everybody,  and 
points  out  the  true  and  intimate  connection  existing  be- 
tween these  facts,  without,  however,  concerning  itself  with 
that  Avhich  may  transcend  them.  It  refrains  from  drawing 
any  conclusions  concerning  what  lies  beyond  experience ; 
it  merely  explains  the  data  of  sensibility  and  self-consci- 
ousness,   and   strives    to    understand    only    the    immanent 

1  Schopenhauer's  antipathy  to  the  Jews  and  Judaism  is  only 
equalled  by  his  hatred  of  Hegel  and  "  the  professors  of  philosophy." 
His  attitude  is  consistent  with  his  Buddhistic  principle  of  "  renuncia- 
tion," which  constitutes  the  essence  of  morality.  Israel  seems  to  be 
more  determined  than  any  other  race  ??o/  io  renounce  existence  ;  it  is, 
therefore,  in  the  eyes  of  our  philosopher,  the  most  "immoral'  of 
peoples. 

2  Vie  Welt  als  Wille  und  Vorstelluntj,  II.,  chap.  L. 


SCHOPENHAUER  665 

essence  of  the  world.  It  is,  in  this  respect,  purely  Kantian. 
Consequently,  it  leaves  many  questions  unanswered,  par- 
ticularly the  question.  Why  are  the  facts  of  experience 
just  what  the}'  are  and  not  different  ?  All  such  questions, 
liowever,  are  transcendent,  i.  e.,  they  cannot  be  explained 
by  the  forms  and  functions  of  our  intellect.  The  intellect 
bears  the  same  relation  to  them  as  our  sensibility  bears  to 
such  qualities  of  bodies  as  we  have  not  the  sense-organs  to 
perceive.  The  mind  is  fatally  dependent  on  the  law  of 
causality,  and  understands  only  what  is  subject  to  tliis  law. 
The  dogmatic  metaphysicians  and  transcendentalists  who 
keep  on  asking  ivhy  and  whence^  forget  that  why  means  hy 
ivhat  cause,  that  there  are  no  causes  and  effects  outside  of 
time-succession,  and  that,  therefore,  the  v:]iy  has  no  mean- 
ing in  the  sphere  to  which  the  forms  of  time  and  space  can- 
not be  applied,  i.  e.,  in  the  sphere  of  the  transcendent, 
where  there  is  no  befoi-e  or  after.  Everywhere  the  intel- 
lect strikes  against  insoluble  problems,  as  against  the  walls 
of  a  prison-house.  The  essence  of  things  not  only  transcends 
our  knowledge,  but,  most  probably,  knowledge  in  general ; 
it  is  both  unintelligible  and  unintelligent,  ^  and  intelli- 
gence is  but  a  form,  an  addition,  an  accident.  With  the 
Eleatics,  Scotus  Erigena,  Bruno,  Spinoza,  and  Schelling, 
I  accept  the  %v  koI  ttuv,  the  doctrine  of  the  unitary  essence 
of  all  beings  ;  only  I  am  careful  not  to  add  :  irdp  ^eo'f,  and 
so  I  differ  essentially  from  the  pantlieists.  Tiie  de6<;  of  tlie 
pantheists  is  an  ./;,  an  uukiiown  (luantity  by  means  of 
which  tliey  aim  to  explain  tiie  known  ;  my  "  w  ill,"  on 
the  other  liand,  is  a  fact  of  ex[)eiicncc ;  I  proceed,  as  all 
true  science  must  proceed,  from  llic  known  to  the  nn- 
known.  My  method  is  empirical,  analytic,  inductive;  that 
of  the  pantheistic  metai)liysicians,  synthetie  and  deductive. 
Pantheism  is  synonymous  with  optimism  ;   in  my  .system, 

1  'I'lii-ri-   is  no  (lilTcn-iicu  here   bfitwemi   Sclic)|Mii|i;iui'r   .iml    niiitc- 
riulbm. 


556  MODERN  THILOSOPHY 

however,  the  evil  in  the  world  is  frankly  conceded  and  its 
significance  fully  recognized.  In  this  respect,  my  system 
differs  from  most  ancient  and  modern  philosophies,  espe- 
cially from  Spinoza,  Leibniz,  and  Hegel.  It  is  to  Spinoza 
what  the  New  Testament  is  to  the  Old. 

Schopenhauer,  therefore,  offers  us  an  empirical  meta- 
physics^ and  Ijecause  he  stands  on  the  ground  of  experience 
he  is  the  first  to  call  that  which  "  constitutes  the  basis  of 
being  and  its  substance  "  ^  by  its  right  name  :  Will.  That 
is  what  constitutes  his  originality,  his  merit,  the  secret  of 
his  success  in  contemporary  Germany,  which  has  been  sur- 
feited with  a-priorism.  His  philosophy  reunited  elements 
which  but  recently  seemed  forever  irreconcilable  :  experi- 
ence and  speculation,  realism  and  idealism,  positivism  and 
metaphysics.  It  is  speculative,  for  it  rises  to  the  univer- 
sal, and  it  is  empirical,  because  it  arrives  at  it  by  induc- 
tion. It  is  an  ontology,  for  it  has  for  its  object  the  essence, 
and,  if  we  may  venture  to  say  so,  the  secret,  of  things,  and 
it  is  positive,  since  it  rests  on  the  solid  basis  of  facts.  It 
is  realistic  because  of  the  extreme  concessions  it  makes  to 
materialism  :  it  is  idealistic  and  critical  in  that  it  denies 
the  absolute  reality  of  the  phenomenal  world,  and  makes  it 
depend  entirely  on  our  intellectual  organization.  It  gives 
promise  of  the  future  reconciliation  of  metaphysics  and 
science,  and  hence  its  disciples  are  willing  to  condone  its 
theory  of  ideas,  borrowed  from  Plato  and  contrary  to  the 
essentially  nominalistic  natural-science  of  the  times ;  its 
extreme  pessimism,  which,  though  unquestionably  superior 
to  the  self-satisfied  optimism  of  Leibniz,  rests  on  an  imper- 
fect knowledge  of  human  nature,  and  evidently  exaggerates 
the  import  of  our  personal  experiences ;  and  finally,  the 
extreme  bitterness  of  its  diatribes  against  Fichte,  Schelling, 

1  Ch.  Secrdtan  {Revue  philosophique,  VII.,  3).  True,  the  term  is 
found  in  his  predecessors,  especially  in  Fichte  and  Schelling,  but 
Schopenhauer  gives  it  its  final  sanction  as  a  technical  term. 


SCHOPENHAUER  557 

and  Hegel,  from  whom,  in  spite  of  its  protests,  it  derives 
the  monistic  idea,  and  whose  chief  wrong  really  consisted 
in  having  been  professors  of  philosoph3\ 

The  most  original  among  Schopenhauer's  disciples, 
Eduard  vox  Hartmaxx,!  has  made  the  attempt,  in  his 
Fhilosophi/  of  the  Unconscious,  to  reconcile  Schopenhauer 
and  Hegel,  by  adding  to  the  will  a  second  principle,  which 
serves  as  its  guide :  idea  {die  Vorstelhtng').  The  will,  he 
reasons,  reaches  its  ends  as  though  it  were  intelligent.  In 
the  form  of  soul,  it  communicates  to  the  human  body  such 
movements  as  it  desires,  as  though  perfectly  conscious  of 
the  means  necessary  to  realize  its  purpose.  In  animals 
it  acts  instinctively,  like    the   most   consummate    intelli- 

^  Born  at  Berlin,  1812.  Besides  the  Philosophie  des  Unleivussten 
(1869 ;  numerous  editions)  ;  [Engl.  tr.  by  E.  C.  Coupland,  London, 
188G],  Hartinann  has  published  :  Kritische  Griuulleyuny  des  transcen- 
dentnlen  Realismus  (1875)  ;  Phanomenologie  des  sitdichen  Bewusslseins 
(1879)  ;  Das  religiose  Bewusstsein  der  Menschheit,  etc.  (1881)  ;  etc. 
[Cf.  J.  Volkelt,  Das  Unhewusste  und  der  Pessimismus ,  Berlin,  1873 ; 
H.  Yaihinger,  Hartmnnn,  Diihring  und  Lnnge,  Fserlohn,  1870;  R.  Kober, 
Das  philosopJiische  Sijstejii  E.  v.  II. 's,  Breslau,  1881;  J.  Sully,  Pessi- 
mism, ch.  v. —  Tr.]  Other  prominent  disciplfs:  J.  Frauenstiidt 
(181:5-1878),  (Briefe  iiber  die  Sch.'sche  Philosophic,  Leipsic,  ISSi; 
Neue  Briefe,  etc.,  Leipsic,  1876,  etc.  Frauenstiidt  is  not  a  servile  imi- 
tator ;  he  criticises  and  corrects  the  master  in  several  important 
respects.  Not  only  does  he  distinguisli  between  the  higher  or  Iniman 
will  and  the  inferior  will  of  the  animal,  thereby  opposing  Schopen- 
hauer, who  identifies  them,  but  also  substitutes  for  liis  pessimism  a 
system  which  aims  to  reconcile  pessimism  and  optimism)  ;  Bahnsen 
(Beilrdge  ziir  Characternhgie,  Leipsic,  1867;  etc.);  I\Iainliinder  (P/a- 
losophie  der  Erlosung,  Berlin,  1870,  2d  ed.,  1870)  ;  Deussen  {Elemente 
der  Melaphysik,  Aix-larChapolle,  1877);  [2d  ed.,  Berlin,  1890;  Engl, 
tr.  by  C.  M.  Duff,  Xew  York,  1894;  Uichard  Wagner,  181:5-188:5,  (he 
great  composer  (Coljected  writings,  9  vols.,  2d  ed.,  1887-8S)  ;  Fricd- 
ricli  Xietzschc,  l>orn  18 H,  {Uuzeilgf-mdsse  Belrarhtuugen,  Leipsic,  187:5- 
1876;  Meitschliches,  Allzurneu.tchlichrs,  2  vols.,  2d  ed.,  1880;  Aho 
sprnch  Znrathustra,  Cliemnilz,  188:5-1881;  Jenscits  vnn  f!ut  und  Hose, 
Leipsic,  1880 ;  Znr  Genealogie  der  Moral,  1887.  Work.s  ed.  I.y  A.  Tille; 
translations  by  T.  ('(jiumoii,  1890).  — Tit.] 


558  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

gence.  As  the  curative  or  catagniatic  power  in  nature,  it 
heals  wounds  and  fractures,  like  the  most  skilful  physician. 
Hence  it  is  iiitcllir/ent,  but  unconscious  ;  it  knows  without 
knowing  that  it  knows. 

Tliis  distinction  between  intelligence  and  inner  apper- 
ception is  not  new ;  we  find  it  in  Leibniz  and  in  Schelling. 
But  Hartmann  was  the  first  to  formulate  it  with  perfect 
clearness,  and  to  support  it  by  a  great  mass  of  facts.  It 
would,  however,  be  a  mistake  to  regard  the  doctrine  that 
ideas  guide  the  will  as  creating  an  essential  difference 
between  the  disciple  and  the  master ;  for  Schopenhauer, 
too,  has  his  Platonic  ideas,  which  serve  as  stages  in  the 
evolution  of  the  will.  Besides,  Hartmann's  idea  cannot 
hinder  the  absolute  from  ivilling,  i.e.,  from  realizing  itself 
in  a  world  in  which  the  evil  necessarily  and  infinitely 
exceeds  the  good,  and  to  which,  though  it  be  the  best 
possible  world,  nothingness  would  be  preferable.  All  that 
it  can  do  is  to  guide  the  cosmical  evolution,  and  to  influ- 
ence the  absolute,  by  producing  a  more  profound  feeling 
of  the  universal  misery  and  a  more  complete  knowledge 
of  the  secret  of  things  (in  a  word,  by  developing  con- 
sciousness), not  to  will  to  be :  which  would  mean  the 
end  of  the  world.  Here,  then,  the  difference  between  dis- 
ciple and  master  is  more  apparent  than  real.  According  to 
Hartmann  as  well  as  according  to  Schopenhauer,  the  exist- 
ence of  the  world  is  an  evil,  since  it  is  synonymous  with 
pain,  sorrow,  and  anguish,  —  feelings  which  recur,  in  dif- 
ferent degrees,  in  myriads  of  sensible  creatures.  But,  in 
Schopenhauer's  opinion,  the  evil  is  irreparable :  the  world 
and,  consequently,  the  pains  are  eternal,  and  only  the  indi- 
viduals that  die  are  relatively  redeemed.  According  to 
Hartmann,  on  the  other  hand,  who  rests  on  the  principle 
that  no  development  is  withoid  beginning  or  end,  and  as- 
sumes a  creation  and  an  end  of  the  world,  the  evil  is 
reparable :    redemption   is  universal,    and   even   the  abso- 


SCHOPENHAUER  559 

lute  is  ultimately  redeemed.^  Onlvi  ^liis  redemption  is 
not  fiiialy  for  we  have  no  assurance  that  the  latent  state 
to  which  the  will  returns  is  final,  that  it  will  not  be 
re-aroused,  that  there  will  not  be  a  new  world,  that  is,  a 
new  hell.  Chance  has  produced  the  present  uni\-erse  ;  the 
same  chance  may,  in  the  future,  produce  an  indetinite  num- 
ber of  worlds,  that  is,  hells.  And  here  we  are  back  in  the 
doctrine  of  Schopenhauer. 

Voluntarism  and  idealism  cannot  really  be  reconciled, 
unless  we  reform  the  very  notion  of  loill,  on  which  the 
pessimistic  system  is  grounded.  Master  and  disciple  both 
err,  not  in  regarding  the  will  as  the  essence  of  things,  — 
that  is  what  it  is,  —  but  in  making  it  radically  and  irreme- 
diably immoral  by  assigning  as  its  goal  life  as  such,  exist- 
ence at  any  cost.  Now,  existence  does  not  give  the  will 
the  supreme  satisfaction  which  it  craves,  unless  it  be 
devoted  to  a  higher  end.  Hence,  life  is  not  the  absolute 
end  of  the  creative  will,  and  this  is  not  the  will-to-live 
{der  Wille  zum  Lchoi),  Ijut  the  will  which  strives  for  the 
good,  by  using  life  as  a  means,  or,  should  occasion  demand, 
by  sacrificing  life  (der  Wille  zwni  Guten  mittcls  dcs  Lcbcns). 
The  good,  for  pessimism,  consists  in  unmalciwj  what  the 
will  has  made,  and,  finally,  —  for  the  very  fact  of  willing 
is  folly,2  —  in  not  willing  at  all;  according  to  us,  it  con- 
sists in  perfecting  the  will,  in  organizing  it,  in  fashioning 
it  by  means  of  morality. 

^  Hartmann  calls  this  his  evobitinnislic  optimisin  in  ojtposilion  to 
Schopenhauer's  absolute  pessimism;  i.  e.,  he  makes  the  historical 
evolution  culminate  at  least  iu  the  negative  happiness  of  notliingness, 
while  Schopenhauer  recognizes  in  reality  neither  history,  nor  evolution, 
nor  progress  of  any  sort. 

'^  In  n-ality  God  himself  committed  the  "folly"  of  willing  to  exist, 
and,  in  this  sense,  his  folly  is  "  wiser  tiuin  the  wisdom  of  men  "  (St. 
Va^uX):  felix  culpa  (Augustine). 


560  MODEKN  PHILOSOPHY 

§  69.    Darwin  and  Contemporary  Monism^ 

At  this  point  of  its  evolution,  German  philosophy  approx- 
imates the  teachings  of  Hobbes  and  La  Mettrie.  Schopen- 
hauer's system  is  bound  to  spiritualism  by  a  very  slender 
thread.  Schopenhauer  censures  phrenology  for  assuming  a 
connection  between  the  will  and  a  definite  portion  of  the 
brain  :  the  will  is  the  producer  and  not  the  product  of 
organization,  a  primary  principle,  preceding  the  physical 
organization,  and,  consequently,  independent  of  the  func- 
tions of  the  brain.  But  though  he  refuses  to  let  material- 
ism have  the  will,  he  abandons  to  it  the  intellect,  which,  he 
declares,  results  from  brain-action.  He  holds,  moreover, 
with  Kant,  that  the  phenomenal  world,  and,  consequently, 
the  brain  itself,  which  forms  a  part  of  it,  does  not  exist  inde- 

1  Besides  the  two  principal  works  of  Charles  Darwin,  Orir/in  of 
Species,  and  Descent  of  Man,  see  especially,  David  Strauss,  Der  alte 
undneue  Glauhe,  1872  [seep.  562]  ;  E.  Haeckel,  Natiaiiche  Schojfimgs- 
geschichte,  Berlin,  1868  ff. ;  [Engl,  tr.,  Natural  History  of  Creation,  1875] ; 
Oscar  Schmidt,  Descendenzlekre  und  Darwinismus,  Leipsic,  187o  ;  [Engl. 
tr.,  The  Doctrine  of  Descent  and  Darwinism  {International  Scientific 
Series)'];  L.  Noire.  Der  monistische  Gedanke,  Leipsic,  1875;  Aphoris- 
men  zur  nionistischen  Philosophie,  1877.  [See  also  :  T.  Huxley,  Man's 
Place  in  Nature,  London,  1863;  same  author,  Lectures  on  the  Origin  of 
Species,  New  York,  18.92 ;  H.  Spencer,  Principles  of  Biology,  London, 
1863-67;  E.  Haeckel,  Antliropogenie,  Leipsic,  1874  ft'.;  English  tr.. 
New  York,  1895 ;  E.  v.  Hartmann,  Wahrheit  und  Irrthum  im  Darwin- 
ismus, Berlin,  1875  {Truth  and  Error  in  Darwinism,  tr.  in  Journal  of 
Speculative  Philosophy,  vols.  XI.-XIIL)  ;  A.  Weismann,  Studien  zur 
Descendenztheorie,  2  pts.,  Leipsic,  1875-76;  H.  W.  Conn,  Evolution  of 
To-Day,  New  York,  1886  ;  A.  R.  Wallace,  Darwinism,  London,  1889  ; 
G.  Romanes,  Darwin  and  after  Darwin:  I.,  The  Darwinian  Theory, 
London,  1892 ;  II.,  Post-Darwinian  Questions  (edited  by  Lloyd  INIor- 
gan),  1895  ;  O.  Hamann,  Entwickelungslehre  und  Darwinismus,  Jena, 
1892 ;  R.  Schmid,  Die  Darwinsclie  Theorie  und  ihre  Stellung  zur 
Philosophie,  Religion,  und  Moral,  Stuttgart,  1870 ;  J.  G.  Schurman,  The 
Ethical  Import  of  Darwinism,  New  York,  1887  ;  T.  Huxley,  Evolution 
and  Ethics,  London,  1893;  A.  Sclileicher,  Die  darwinsche  Theorie  und 
die  SprachoissenschaftfWeimiu;  1865;  3d  ed.,  1873. — Tu.] 


DARWIN  AND  CONTEMPOEARY  MONISM  561 

pendently  of  the  intellect.  The  brain  and  the  intellect  mutu- 
ally condition  each  other ;  neither  exists  without  the  other. 
The  will  alone  does  not,  in  any  way,  depend  upon  organ- 
ized matter.  However,  this  will,  which  strives  exclusively 
for  existence,  differs,  neither  in  principle  nor  in  fact,  from 
the  "  force  "  of  the  materialists.  The  Rcalci  of  Horbart,  on 
the  other  hand,  are  so  much  like  '•  atoms  "  as  to  be  mistaken 
for  them.  The  monads  of  Leibniz  perceive  of  themselves ; 
Herbart's  "  perception  "  remits  from  the  interpenetration  of 
his  Hcalcn,  and  is  not  native  to  them :  by  themselves  they 
are  as  unintelligent  as  atomism's  centres  of  force.  Accord- 
ing to  Herbart  as  well  as  according  to  materialism,  intelli- 
gence is  a  product,  not  a  principle.  Similarly,  that  which 
Hegel  calls  the  creative  idea  is  not  conscious  intelligence ; 
it  is  a  principle  that  becomes  conscious  intelligence  when  it 
is  provided  with  a  cerebrum.  Where,  then,  is  the  essential 
difference  between  an  unconscious  principle  and  what  mate- 
rialism calls  force-matter?  Besides,  Hegel,  like  Schopen- 
hauer, Spinoza,  and  Bruno,  agrees  with  materialism  in 
rejecting  the  dogma  of  the  creation  and  government  of  the 
world  by  a  supra-cosmic  Avill,  the  immortality  of  the  soul, 
and  free-will,  i.  e.,  the  essential  doctrines  of  spiritualism. 
The  Hegelian  concei)tion  of  things  and  the  materialistic 
philosophy  are  fundamentally  tin?  same,  howi'ver  opposite 
they  may  be  in  form:  both  substitute  naturalism  and  mon- 
ism  for  theism  and  dualism.  Hegelians,  abandon  and)igu- 
ous  terms !  Call  things  by  their  right  names !  Do  not 
designate  the  sul)stance  which  exists  prior  to  intelligence 
idea.,  but  matter  !  What  distinguishes  us  from  tiie  materi- 
alists is,  ultimately,  the  method  we  employ.  Now,  ours  is 
manifestly  false,  theire  is  evidently  the  true  one ;  hence, 
let  us  unite  with  them !  So  sj)oke  the  lil)eral  Hegelians, 
particularly  Ludwk;  Feueruacii,^  renowmul  for  his  works 

'  Son  of  tin;  jurist,  Aiiseliii  FcihtIimcIi  ;  ls()l-1872  ;  coiiipli-ti- works, 
10  vols.,  Iy<'ii)sic,  1811!  fT.  [Cf.  K.  (iiiiii,  A.  Ft-ttcrhnrh,'!  vols  ,  Lcipsic, 
1871.]  ;iG 


562  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

on  Das  Wcsen  des  Christenthums'^  and  Das  JFescn  der  Be- 
ligion,^  who  was  afterwards  joined  by  David  Strauss.^ 

Thus  materialism,*  reinforced  by  the  descendants  of 
Heo-elianism  and  popularized  by  such  talented  writers  as 
Jacob  Moleschott,^  Ludwig  Buchneii,*^  Carl  Vogt,^ 
and  Ernst  Haeckel,^  became  in  German}^  what  it  had 
been  in  France  since  the  eighteenth  century :  an  intellectual 
power  of  the  highest  order,  firmly  resting  upon  the  basis  of 
facts  and  having  in  its  favor  the  double  advantage  of  per- 
fect  clearness   and   comprehensive,  thorough  knowledge. 

1  [The  Essence  of  Christianity'},  Leipsic,  ISil.  "  Antliropology  is 
the  secret  of  tJieology.  God  is  man  worshipping  himseM.  The  Trinity 
is  the  human  family  deified.'' 

2  Leipsic,  1815. 

8  1808-1874:.  Author  of  Das  Leben  Jesu,  Tubingen,  1835-3G  ;  [TAe 
Life  of  Christ,  tr.  by  George  Eliot,  London,  1846  ff.]  ;  Der  alte  und  der 
neue  Glaube,  1872  ff. ;  [Engl.  tr.  by  M.  Blind,  London,  1873.  Collected 
works,  ed.  by  E.  Zeller,  12  vols.,  Bonn,  187G-78.  Cf.  A.  Hausrath, 
David  Friedrich  Sti-auss  und  die  Theologie  seiner  Zeit,  2  voLs.,  Heidel- 
berg, 1876-1878. —  Tr.] 

*  [See  P.  Janet,  Le  materialisme  contemporain,  6th  ed.,  Paris,  1893; 
Engl.  tr.  by  G.  Masson,  London,  1866.  —  Tr.] 

6  [1822-1893.]  Der  Kreislauf  des  Lebens,  Mainz,  18.52 ;  4th  ed.,  1 862 ; 
Die  Einheit  des  Lebens,  Giessen,  1864:. 

6  [Born  1824.]  Kraft  und  Stoff,  Frankfort,  1855  ;  16tli  ed.,  1888; 
[Engl,  tr.,  Force  and  Matter,  by  Collingwood,  4th  ed.,  London,  1884]; 
Natur  und  Geist,  1857  ff. ;  Seeks  Vorlesnngen  iiber  die  Darwinsche  Theorie, 
Leipsic,  1868  ff. ;  [Die  Stellung  des  Menschen,  etc.,  Leipsic,  1869  f . ; 
Engl,  tr.,  Man  in  the  Past,  Present,  and  Future,  by  W.  F.  Dallas,  Lon- 
don, 1872.] 

7  [1817-1895.]  Phusiohrfsche  Briefe,  Stuttgart,  1845-47;  Kohler- 
glaube  und  Wissenschaft,  Giessen,  1854  ;  Vorlesnngen  iiher  den  Menschen, 
Giessen,  1863. 

8  [Born  1834.]  Generelle  MorphoJngie  der  Organismen,  Berlin,  1806 
ff.;  Naturliche  Schopfungsgeschichte,  Berlin,  1868,  8th  ed.,  1889  ;  [Engl, 
tr..  Natural  History  of  Creation,  New  York,  1892;  Anthropogenie,  Leip- 
sic, 1874  ff.  ;  Engl.  tr..  The  Evolution  of  Man,  Xew  York,  1895;  Ge- 
sammelte  populare  Vortrdge,  1878  ff, ;  Engl,  tr.,  Popular  I^ectures,  1888. 
-Tr] 


DARWIN  AND   CONTEMPORARY  MONISM  563 

Its  alliance  with  political  and  religious  radicalism  gained 
for  it  tlie  sympathies  of  the  public,  and  it  receives  support 
from  a  number  of  recent  discoveries  and  scientific  theories. 
It  appeals  to  the  transformistic  theory  of  Lamauck^  and 
Charles  Darwin  ^  against  the  miracle  of  creation ;  to 
the  anatomical  study  of  anthropoid  apes,  against  the  view 
that  there  is  an  insurpassable  gulf  between  animals  and 
man,  matter  and  mind ;  ^  to  tlie  advance  of  chemical 
synthesis,  against  the  phantom  of  the  vital  jjrinciple  ;  ^  to 
the  theory  of  the  equivalence  and  transformation  of  forces  ^ 
and  electrological  discoveries,^  against  the  hypothesis  of  a 

1  [1744-1829.]  Philosophie  zooloyique,  Paris,  1809  ;  [new  ed.  by  C. 
Martins,  Paris,  187o]. 

2  [18U9-18S2.]  On  tlie  Origin  of  Species  hij  7neanx  of  Natural  Selec- 
tion, London,  1859  if. ;  \_The  Descent  of  Man,  id.,  1871;  T/ie  Expression 
of  the  Emotions  in  Man  and  Animals,  id.,  1872  ;  etc.  See  Francis  Dar- 
Avin,  Life  and  Letters  of  Charles  Darwin,  London,  1887.  Bililiography  in 
J.  W.  Spengel,  Die  Darwinsche  Theorie,  2d  ed.,  Berlin,  1872.  Cf.  §  G9, 
notel.  — Tr.]. 

^  Huxley,  Man's  I'lace  in  Natxire,  London,  18G3;  Vogt,  Vorlesungen 
iiber  den  Menschen,  seine  Stellung  in  der  Schopfiing  itnd  in  der  Geschichte 
der  Erde,  French  translation  by  Moulinie,  18G5. 

*  R.  Virchow  [born  1821]  Der  alte  und  neue  Vitalismus  (Archir  fiir 
pathologische  Anatomic  und  Physiologic,  TX.,  1-2). 

5  Sir  Humphry  Davy  [1778-1829].  Faraday  [1791-1867].  J.  R. 
Mayer  [181  1-1878,  Piemerkungcn  iiher  die  Krafte  der  nnhchhlen  Natur, 
1842.  His  troatisf'S  were  collected  under  the  title,  Pic  Mrchanik  der 
Wdrme,  2d  ed.,  Stuttgart,  1874.  Cf.  E.  Diihring,  R.  Mn;/er,  der  Galilei 
des  19.  Jahrhunderts,  Chemnitz,  1880. —  Tr.].  H.  Hehnholtz  [1821- 
IHQo'],  Ueher  die  Erhaltung  der  Kraft,  Berlin,  1847;  Ueher  die  Wech- 
selwirkung  der  Naturkrafte,  Kbnig.slu^rg,  1854;  both  in  Vortrdge  und 
Reden,  3d  ed.,  Braunschweig,  1884;  Engl,  tr..  Popular  Lectures,  New 
York,  1881].  (l.  A.  Hirii,  Esr/uisse  de  la  theorie  inecanii/ue  de  la  rhaleur, 
1804.  John  Tyiidall  [1820-1893],  Heat  considered  as  a  Mode  of  Mo 
tion,  London,  1803;  Mailer  and  Force,  id.,  ISCG.  Combes  [1811  -1872], 
Exposition  de  la  theorie  mecanique  de  la  chalcur.  Dupny,  Transforma- 
tion des  forces.  W.  f! rove  [born  1811],  On  the  Correlation  of  Phi/sic(d 
Forces,  London,  1810;  0th  ed.,  1871. 

"  E.  Dii  IJois-Rcyuifdid  [born  181s],  Untcrsuchungt  n  uher  thierische 
Elektriciiat,  2  vols.,  Berlin,  184.S-84. 


564  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

separate  force  for  the  explanation  of  thought ;  to  the  geo- 
loo-ical  theory  of  gradual  evolutions  and  imperceptible 
changes,!  against  the  theory  of  cataclysms,^  behind  which, 
according  to  materialism,  lurks  the  belief  in  the  arbitrary 
intervention  of  a  supernatural  power ;  finally,  to  the  many 
conclusive  facts  which  prove,  beyond  the  shadow  of  a  doubt, 
that  a  relation  exists  between  the  brain  and  thought,  against 
the  spiritualistic  distinction  between  soul  and  body. 

Of  all  these  innovations,  the  Darwinian  theory  is  the 
one  which  materialism  appropriated  most  readily,  and  to 
which  it  is  most  indebted.  This  theory  answers  the  follow- 
ing cardinal  question,  which  had  remained  unsolved  until 
the  days  of  Darwin :  How  can  the  purposiveness  which  is 
revealed  in  the  structure  and  arrangement  of  our  organs 
be  produced  without  the  intervention  of  an  intelligent 
creative  cause,  and  through  the  purely  mechanical  action 
of  unconscious  forces?  or,  rather:  How  can  we  explain 
finality  [purposiveness,  teleology]  without  final  causes?^ 
Darwinism  provides  materialism  with  a  satisfactoiy  answer 
to  the  main  objection  of  theistic  spiritualism,  and  thereby 
becomes  its  indispensable  ally.  So  close  is  this  alliance 
that  Darwinism  and  materialism  are  regarded  as  synony- 
mous terms. 

Ever  since  the  eighteenth  century  two  systems  have 
been  opposing  each  other.*  AccorcUng  to  the  one,  which 
rests  on  the  supposed  immutability  of  species,  every  animal 
and  vegetable  species  has  been  created  independently  of 
all  its  congeners  (the  creationism  of  Linnaeus  and  Cuvier)  ; 
according  to  the  other,  whose  principles  were  formulated 

1  C.  Lyell  [1707-1875],  Principles  of  Genhgy,  London,  1830;  11th 
ed.,  1872.' 

^  Georges  Cnvier  [1769-1882],  Di:^conr.f  stir  les  revolutions  de  la 
surface  du  globe  (Tntroduction  to  BecliercTies  sur  les  ossements  fossiles). 

*  Haeckel,  Natural  History  of  Creation,  Eng.  tr.,  pp.  390  ff. 

4  See  §  60. 


DARWIN  AND  CONTEMPORARY  MONISM  565 

by  Diderot  and  Robinet,  species  are  merely  varieties,  more 
pronounced  and  more  stable  than  the  forms  which  we  com- 
monly call  varieties,  and  descend  from  each  other  by  gen- 
eration (transforniism,  or  evolutionism).  The  theory  of 
transformation  opposes  to  the  dogma  of  the  immutability 
of  species  the  fact  of  their  variability.  The  parent  form 
and  its  offspring  alwaj's  resemble  each  other;  they  are 
never  identical.  That  is  to  say,  there  are  differences 
betAveen  them.  Moreover,  —  and  that  is  important,  —  these 
differences  may  be  transmitted  by  heredity.  But  how  and 
by  what  causes  are  these  endless  variations  and  progres- 
sive metamorphoses  produced  ?  How  and  by  wliat  causes 
could  the  tiger  and  the  gazelle,  the  mouse  and  the  elephant, 
spring  from  one  and  the  same  source  ?  According  to  La- 
marck and  Geoffroy  Saint-Hilaire,  this  is  explained  by  the 
influence  of  the  environment  upon  the  organism,  and  by 
the  gradual  adaptation  of  the  organism  to  its  conditions  of 
existence.  This  explanation,  which  sufficed  for  a  certain 
number  of  cases,  but  left  a  still  larger  number  unexplained, 
was  completed  by  Charles  Darwin  (1809-1882),  the  most 
celebrated  naturalist  of  our  century,  in  liis  monumental 
work  :  On  the  Origin  of  Species  hij  Means  of  Natural  Selec- 
tion} The  transformation  of  organized  beings  and  tlie 
diversity  of  their  specific  types  is,  according  to  Darwin, 
brouglit  about  by  the  natural  competition  between  them, 
Ijy  the  struggle  for  life.  This  struggle  for  existence  results 
in  a  selection  wholly  similar  to  the  artificial  selection  by 
means  of  which  the  horticultui'ist  and  breeder  obtain 
their  varieties.  What,  for  instance,  does  the  breeder  of 
pigeons  do  ?  ^  Tie  observes  tliat  one  of  liis  pigeons  has 
one  more  tail-feather  than  tlie  (jthei's.  He  finds  a  female 
possessing  the  same  ])eculiarity,  and  tliis  j):iir  produce  off- 
spring liaving  two,  three,  or  four  \\\u\\\   tail-feathers  than 

»  Sie  p.  .003,  note  L». 

'•*  Orii/iii  of  Species,  Otli  t'(l.,  p]).  II  IT. 


566  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

the  original  stock :  the  fantail.  By  a  similar  process  he 
obtains  the  pouter,  the  Jacobin,  the  tumbler,  the  carrier, 
and  other  varieties.  The  same  principles  are  followed  by 
horticulturists  and  breeders  of  horses,  dogs,  and  cattle : 
by  selecting  their  pairs  and  seeds  according  to  certain 
qualities,  these  artists  succeed  in  infinitely  modifying  the 
types.  They  realize  their  purpose  by  methodical  selection 
and  with  a  distinct  object  in  view ;  nature  obtains  the 
same  results  (modification  of  types)  unintentionally,  by 
means  of  the  competition  or  struggle  for  existence.  As 
a  result  of  this  struggle,  a  selection,  or  kind  of  choice,  is 
made  among  beings ;  some,  i.  e.,  the  strongest,  or  the  most 
clever,  or  such  as,  for  some  reason  or  other,  are  best  fitted 
to  survive,  are  reproduced  \_survival  of  the  fittest^  ;  others 
perish.  The  latter  are  the  outcasts,  the  former  the  elect  of 
nature,  the  select  of  the  competition,  which  is  not  only  the 
principle  of  all  social  progress,  but  also  the  first  cause  of 
all  development  in  nature.  Let  us  imagine,  says  Strauss, 
commenting  on  Darwin,^  a  herd  of  cattle,  at  a  time 
when  these  animals  had  no  horns.  The  herd  is  attacked 
by  wild  beasts.  It  is  evident  that  in  the  ensuing  struggle 
for  existence,  those  which  have  the  strongest  heads  will 
stand  a  better  chance  of  surviving  than  the  others,  and  it  is 
also  evident  that  if  tliere  be  in  the  attacked  herd  an  indi- 
vidual possessing  rudimentary  horns,  it  will  have  more 
chances  of  survival  than  the  rest  of  the  herd.  Great  num- 
bers of  the  latter  will  perish ;  the  favored  animal,  however, 
will  escape ;  it  will  produce  offspring  and  (what  is  im- 
portant in  this  connection)  transmit  to  its  descendants  the 
peculiarity  which  saved  its  life  and  enabled  it  to  be  repro- 
duced: its  rudimentary  weapons  of  defence.  Its  descend- 
ants will  possess  the  same  peculiar  characteristic  in  greater 
or  less  degree.  The  better  equipped  they  are  in  this  re- 
gard, the  greater  will  be  their  chances  of  conquering  in  the 

^  Der  alte  und  neue  Glaube,  2d  ed.,  pp.  190  fE. 


DARWIN   AND   CONTEMPORARY   MONISM  567 

renewed  struggle  for  existence,  and  of  transmitting  their 
organs  of  protection  to  the  succeeding  generations.  And 
thus  the  organ,  wliich,  in  the  fu'st  animal  possessino-  it, 
was  nothing  but  a  freak  of  nature,  and  which,  without  the 
struggle  for  existence,  would  have  disappeared  with  its 
owner,  without  leaving  a  trace  in  the  bovine  species,  goes 
on  developing  and  perfecting  itself  from  generation  to  gen- 
eration. What  was  at  lii-st  a  purely  individual  character- 
istic becomes  a  generic  characteristic,  in  consec^uence  of 
the  never-ending  struggle  for  existence  and  the  accumu- 
lated effects  of  the  constantly  renewed  process  of  selection. 

In  the  foregoing  example,  the  selection  is  determined  by 
a  positive  advantage,  a  surplus,  but  there  are  cases  in  which 
a  defect  may  have  the  same  effect,  in  which  an  imperfection 
may  be  an  advantage  and  a  cause  of  selection.  Let  us  sup- 
pose, with  Haeckel,!  that  a  swarm  of  winged  insects  on  an 
oceanic  island  are  overtaken  by  a  storm,  blown  to  sea,  and 
destroyed.  Let  us  also  suppose  that  one  of  these  insects  is 
wingless;  it  will  not  be  able  to  follow  the  swarm  in  their 
flight,  and  to  this  verv  defect  it  will  owe  its  safet}'.  It  -\^•ill 
survive  its  winged  congeners  and  transmit  its  defect  to 
some  of  its  offspring,  wliich  will,  consequently,  jjossess 
the  same  advantage  (that  of  being  "selected")  ;  and  so  on, 
until,  from  selection  to  selection,  the  comijlcte  absence 
of  winofs  comes  to  constitute  the  characteristic  f>f  the 
species.2  In  this  case,  undoubtedly,  the  process  of  uatural 
selection  is  really  a  retrogi-ession,  for  liere  we  have  to  doid 
with  a  deformity,  with  a  gradual  weakening;  but  evolution 
in  nature  is  retrogressive  as  well  as  progressive. 

Selection  by  means  of  the  struggle  for  life  sulliciently 
explains  cveiy  teleologieal  characteristic  in  organisms.  It 
even  explains  the  formation  of  tlie  sense-organs,  the  eye  and 

'  Anlunil  Ilialory  of  Credllon,  pp.  '-VJ.!  ff. 

*  [.Si'(?  Darwin's  explanation  <if  tlio  win^flrss  coiulition  of  tin'  M:i- 
deira  beetle,  Oritjin  of  Species,  cli,  V.,  pp.  1(U  ff.  —  Tit.] 


568  MODERN   PHILOSOPHY 

the  ear,  these  wonderful  works  of  art,  which  have  always 
been  appealed  to  as  the  most  conclusive  evidences  of  final- 
istic  and  creationistic  doctrines.  The  first  eye  produced  in 
the  evolution  of  the  animal  kingdom  was,  like  the  first  horn 
of  the  bovine  genus,  a  mere  rudimentary  organ,  differing  as 
much  from  the  eyes  of  higher  species  now  existing  as  the 
fin  of  the  fish  differs  from  the  arm  of  man.  But  in  so  far 
as  it  refracted  light  and  aroused  a  luminous  sensation,  how- 
ever weak,  it  gave  the  individual  endowed  with  it  an  im- 
mense advantage  in  the  struggle  for  existence,  and  made 
him  the  "  elect  of  nature."  His  blind  congeners  necessarily 
disappeared,  leaving  it  to  him  to  preserve  the  species  and 
to  transmit  this  visual  organ,  in  a  more  pronounced  form 
perhaps,  to  the  descendants.  The  same  causes  continued  to 
act,  and  to  accumulate  their  effects,  from  generation  to 
generation,  until,  after  thousands  of  centuries  of  progressive 
evolution,  the  eye  at  last  attained  to  its  present  perfection, 
surpassing  the  most  consummate  products  of  art  and  the 
wisest  combinations  of  intelligence  ;  and  it  attained  to  it,  not 
through  intelligent  intervention,  but  by  natural  selection.^ 
It  was,  as  we  have  said,  owing  to  this  mechanical  expla- 
nation of  finality  —  an  explanation  which,  in  Darwin,  does 
not  exclude  the  idea  of  creation  —  that  contemporary  mate- 
rialism at  once  enthusiastically  adopted  the  theory  of  nat- 
ural selection.  What  we  attribute  to  "the  wisdom  of 
Providence,"  or  to  "  the  kindness  of  Mother  Nature,"  ap- 
peared, in  the  Darwinian  hypothesis,  as  the  product  of  the 
natural  competition  of  beings  and  the  selection  resulting 
therefrom.  Animals  that  can  live  in  warm  climates  with- 
out any  covering  are  protected  by  warm  fur  in  Northern 
regions ;  most  of  those  inhabiting  the  desert  resemble  their 
surroundings  in  color,  and  are  thereby  concealed  from  their 
enemies ;  finally,  the  existence  of  every  living  being  is,  in 
a  certain  measure,  "  assured."  But  there  is  no  charitable 
1  Origin  of  Species,  chap^.  VL,  pp.  139  ff. 


DARWIN  AND   CONTEMPORARY   MONISM  569 

design  nor  supernatural  and  providential  arrangement  in 
all  this.  The  animals  of  the  North  do  not  have  fur  in  order 
to  protect  them  from  the  cold ;  they  do  not  suffer  from  the 
cold,  because  they  have  fur.  And  they  have  fur,  because  their 
progenitors,  whom  chance  clothed  with  a  thicker  skin,  were, 
on  that  account,  better  fitted  to  carry  on  the  struggle  for 
existence  than  their  less  favored  congeners ;  and  were  able, 
in  consequence  of  this  natural  selection,  to  reproduce  them- 
selves and  to  transmit  their  peculiarities  to  their  offspring, 
whereas  the  others  perished,  and  their  type  disappeared. 
The  same  may  be  said  of  the  animals  of  the  desert,  and  of 
all  animals  and  plants  enjoying  some  advantage  apparently 
due  to  fuial  causes.-^ 

The  principle  of  selection  applies  not  only  to  anatomy 
and  physiology,  but  also  to  animal  psychology.  The  in- 
stincts of  spiders,  ants,  bees,  beavers,  and  birds,  which, 
even  according  to  Hartmann's  belief,  can  only  be  explained 
by  means  of  a  deus-ex  machina  (the  unconscious),  are,  in 
Darwin's  opinion,  nothing  but  inherited  habits,  which  have 
become  a  second  nature  through  the  effects  of  the  struggle 
for  life  and  natural  selection.  That  which  is  innate  in  the 
present  generation  was  not  so  in  the  original  ancestors,  and 
the  wonderful  art  manifested  in  the  instincts  of  certain  ani- 
mals is  merely  the  result  of  an  evolution  lasting  countless 
ages,  and  of  a  gradual  perfection,  beginning  with  the  very 
earliest  origin  of  these  species.  Our  intellectual  habits 
originated  in  the  same  way.  The  ideas  which  spiritualism 
considers  as  innate,  and  which,  according  to  Kant,  belong 
to  the  veiy  constitution  of  the  intelligence,  are,  undoubt- 
edly, a  part  of  our  present  mental  organization,  but  they 
weie  not  native  to  our  first  progenitors.  Tlie  latter  acquired 
tliem  by  experience;  they  were  traiisiiiittcd  to  us,  as  intel- 
lectual habits  or  dispositions,  by  heredity  aided  by  selection, 
and  thus  eventually  became  innate. 

*  Haeckel,  Natural  Ilistory  of  Creation,  Locluro  XL 


570  MODERN   PHILOSOPHY 

An  inevitable  corollary  of  the  principle  of  transforma- 
tion and  selection  is  the  simian  origin  of  man.     Darwin 
advances  it  in  liis  second  main  work :   The  Descent  of  Man 
(1871).     Man  is  the  descendant  of  a  variety  of  apes,  more 
favored  than  the  rest.     The  false  pride  which  hinders  us 
from  accepting  this  view  arises  from  the  fact  that  the  ape 
has  a  comical  demeanor  which  gives  him  the  appearance 
of  a  cretin^  an  idiot,  a  caricature  of  a  man.     We  should 
not  feel  so,  if   it  were  held  that  we  descended  from  the 
lion  or  the  rose-bush.     Strange  to  say,  we  do  not  even 
experience  this  feeling  when  we  read  the  Biblical  story, 
according  to  which  our  species  sprang  from  a  clod  of  earth : 
a  still  more  humiliating  origin,  considering  the  enormous 
distance  between  a  clod  of  earth  and  an  organized  being, 
and  an  organized  being  as  advanced  as  the  ape.    The  objec- 
tion is  made  that  a  Csesar,  a  Kant,  a  Goethe,  could  not  have 
descended  from  an  animal,  —  that  there  is  an  insuperable 
distance  between  them  and  the  ape.     But  this  objection 
falls  to  the  ground  when  we  take  into  account,  on  the  one 
hand,  the  intermediate  links  between  the  anthropoid  ape 
and  Caesar  (Papuans,  New  Zealanders,  Caffirs,   etc.),  and, 
on  the  other,  the  immense  period  of  time  wdiich  nature, 
i.  e.,  the  struggle  for  existence  and  selection,  needed  to 
effect  the  evolution  from  the  man-ape  to  Caesar  and  Goethe. 
It  is  true,  the  six  thousand  years,  which,  according  to  the 
Bible,  is  the  age  of  the  world,  would  not  have  sufficed. 
But  the  palseontological  discoveries  of  our  century  (lacus- 
trine deposits,  flint  tools,  cave-dwellers,  the  kjokken-mod- 
dings  on  the  Danish  coasts,  etc.)  unquestionably  prove  that 
the  human  race  is  much  older,  and  that  even  Egyptian 
civilization,    which   is  prodigiously   ancient,    is    relatively 
modern}    Infinitely  short  steps  and  infinitely  long  periods : 
these,  says  Strauss,^  are  the  two  keys  which  open  the  gates 
hitherto   accessible   to   miracle   only.     Well !      Does   not 
1  Strauss,  Der  alte  und  neue  Glaube,  p.  202.  '  Id. 


DARWIN   AND   CONTEMPORARY   ^[ONIS^I  671 

Chi'istianity  teach  that  God  became  man  ?  Then  why  can- 
not an  animal  become  man  ?  The  non-Christian  religions  do 
not  believe  it  to  be  impossible,  as  the  doctrine  of  the  trans- 
migration of  souls,  taught  by  ancient  Egypt,  Brahmanism, 
and  Buddhism,  shows.  In  truth,  there  is  no  gulf  between 
man  and  the  animal.  We  cannot  deny  the  latter  sensi- 
bility, memory,  and  intelligence.  The  facts  which  })rove 
it  would  fill  volumes.  The  moral  sense  is  not  foreign  to 
animals  ;  it  may,  as  Strauss  adds,^  be  aroused  in  the  dog  by 
the  whip ,  but  can  we  not  say  the  same  for  many  men  ? 
The  animal  has  feelings  of  motherly  love,  attachment,  and 
devotion.  It  differs  from  us  in  degree  only ;  its  "  soul " 
is  to  oiu-s  what  the  bud  is  to  the  flower  and  the  fruit. 

We  shall  not  dwell  upon  these  results  of  contemporary 
materialistic  thought,  which  add  nothing  essentially  new 
to  the  teachings  of  the  eighteenth  century.  What  charac- 
terizes modern  materialism  is  not  its  mechanical  explana- 
tion of  the  world,  nor  its  absolute  negation  of  linal  causes, 

—  in  this  respect  as  v.^ell  as  in  all  the  others,  materialistic 
principles  have  not  changed  since  the  times  of  Democritus, 

—  but  solely  the  fact  that,  thanks  to  Darwin,  it  found,  as 
its  adherents  claim,  a  ready  answer  to  the  constantly  reit- 
erated and  never  refuted  objection  of  the  teleologists : 
Every  work  adapted  to  an  end  presup[)oses  a  workman,  an 
intelligence,  a  design,  and  shall  not  the  most  admiral)le 
product  of  all,  the  most  perfect  camera  obscura,  the  human 
eye,  presuppose  one? 

In  other  respects,  contemporary  materialism  agrees  not 
only  witli  the  materialism  of  the  eighteenth  century  and 
Greek  materialism,  but  also  with  the  essential  doctrines  of 
German  idealism  and  Spinozistic  pantheism :  the  Universe 
or  tlie  All-One  substituted  for  God,  tlie  consubstantiality 
of  l)eings,  absolute  determinism.  In  order  to  emphasize 
tliis  agreement,  the  German  materialism  of  our  days  calls 
itself  vwnisin. 

1  Dtr  (il(€  und  neue  Glaube,  p.  207. 


572  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

The  difference  existing  between  materialistic  monism 
and  the  idealistic  monism  of  Fichte,  Schelling,  and  Hegel, 
may  be  expressed  as  follows :  The  former  emphatically 
denies  all  finality ;  whereas  the  latter,  inspired  by  Kant's 
Critique  of  Judgment^  recognizes  in  nature,  if  not  the 
designs  of  a  transcendent  Creator,  at  least  an  immanent 
finality.  The  Idea  of  Hegel  is  the  highest  end  of  nature 
realizing  itself  by  means  of  an  evolution  that  is  both  phys- 
ical and  logical :  phj^sical,  in  so  far  as  it  is  unconscious ; 
logical,  in  so  far  as  it  excludes  chance.  Hence,  it  is  really 
identical  with  what  Schelling  and,  above  all,  Schopenhauer, 
call  by  its  true  name  :    Will. 

Now,  we  may  ask  ourselves  the  question  :  Does  not  the 
Darwinian  principle,  which  materialism  invokes  with  such 
absolute  confidence,  corroborate,  rather  than  overturn,  the 
hypothesis  of  immanent  teleology  ?  Is  it  really  true  that 
the  struggle  for  existence  is  a  first  cause  and  exclusively 
mechanical  ?  Does  not  the  struggle  for  life,  in  turn,  pre- 
suppose Schopenhauer's  ivill-to-live,  will  or  effort.,  without 
which,  according  to  the  profound  remark  of  Leibniz,  there 
can  he  no  substance  ?  ^  Does  it  not,  therefore,  presuppose 
an  anterior,  superior,  and  immaterial  cause  ?  What  can  the 
formula :  struggle  for  existence,  mean,  except :  struggle 
in  order  to  exist?  Now,  that  carries  us  right  into  tele- 
ology. Besides,  we  cannot  deny  that  the  entire  Darwin- 
ian terminology  is  derived  from  the  teleological  theory : 
the  terms,  selection.,  clioice,  evidently  introduce  an  intellect- 
ual element  into  nature. ^     These  are  mere  images,  it  is 

1  Haeckel  himself  says :  In  the  last  analysis,  the  impulses  which 
determine  (hedingen,  condition)  the  stiaiggle  and  its  diverse  forms,  are 
merely  those  of  self-preservation  (Selbstei-haltung).  See  his  Natural 
History  of  Creation,  pp.  282  ff.  Here  we  no  longer  have  materialism, 
but  pure  voluntarism. 

^  [See  Darwin's  answer  to  such  objections.  Origin  of  Species,  6th 
ed.,  chap.  IV.,  pp.  58  ff.  —  Tr.] 


POSITIVISM  AND  NEO-CRITICISM  573 

said,  or  figures  of  speech.  Very  well.  But  does  not  the 
very  impossibility  of  avoiding  them  prove  the  impossibility 
of  explaining  nature  by  pure  mechanism  ? 


§  70.     Positivism  and  Neo-Criticism 

Not  all  materialists,  it  must  be  added,  are  equally  posi- 
tive and  dogmatic.  Contrary  to  the  opinion  of  one  Lowen- 
tbal,^  who  accuses  even  the  author  of  Force  and  Matter  of 
moderantism,  there  are,  in  Germany,  France,  and  England, 
a  considerable  number  of  thinkers,  moralists  and  physicists, 
historians  and  physiologists,  who  sympathize  with  materi- 
alism more  than  with  an}'  other  phikisophy,  but  remain, 
either  through  conviction  or  policy,  within  the  limits  as- 
signed to  speculation  by  the  criticism  of  Locke,  Hume, 
and  Kant.  In  France,  tliis  party,  wliich  is  decidedly 
hostile  to  metaphj'sics  and  determined  to  replace  it  by 
science^  has,  for  the  last  thirty  j^ears,  been  gathering  around 
the  standard  of  Comte.  It  is  known  as  the  positivistic 
school. 

AuGUSTE  Comte  was  born  at  ]\Iontpellier  in  1789.  He 
entered  the  Ecole  jiolytechiiquc^  then  became  a  tutor  and 
examiner  in  this  school,  which,  under  the  Restoration,  con- 
tinued the  traditions  of  the  eighteenth  century.  His  Cours 
cle  jjhilosojjJiie  positive^ lAaced  him  among  the  oiigiual  tliink- 

1  Dr.  VA.  Lciwoiithiil,  Si/stetn  utul  Gcschic/ile  des  Xiitunilisiitu.^,  \A'\\y- 
sic,  18(51;  .Jill  ed.,  1808. 

2  G  vols.,  Paris,  18:59-12;  2il  ed.,  with  a  Pre/are  by  Littre,  Paris, 
1864;  [English  version  freely  translated  and  condensed  by  Harriet 
Martineau,  London,  185.3.  Lat<^r  writintjs:  Si/slhne  dr  politique  posi- 
tive,  4  vols.,  Paris,  1851-51  (Engl,  tr.,  187.5-77)  ;  Calcchisnie  positirisle, 
18.53  (Engl.  tr.  by  Congreve,  18.58,  2d  ed.,  1883).  See  Littre,  Comir  el 
la  pJtilosopltie  positiriste,  Paris,  1803;  2d  ed.,  1801;  J.  S.  Mill.  Cnnte 
and  J'osilivi.sm,  ^Million,  ISCh) ;  3ded.,  18S2;  15.  I'linjer,  Ikr  l'i>siliiis- 
muK,  etc.  {Jahrhildier  f.  Protestantische  Theolngie),  1878;  E.  Caird,  T/ie 
Siiriiil  Phil'tSDphi/  and   Hilif/loit   of  ('oiiitr,   (Iliisgow,   1885;    II.   (Inibfr, 


574  MODERN  rHiLOSOPHY 

ers  of  our  age.  Emil  Littr^  ^  in  France,  and  John  Stuart 
Mill  ^  in  England,  were  the  most  distinguished  of  his  fol- 
lowers.    He  died  at  Paris  in  1857. 

Positivism  is  not  a  mere  negation,  —  otherwise  it  could 
not  have  formed  a  school,  —  it  is  a  system  whose  central 
teaching,  the  theory  of  the  history  of  thought,  is  the  realistic 
counterpart,  so  to  speak,  of  HegeFs  philosophy  of  mind. 

According  to  Comte,  the  human  mind  successively  passes 
through  three  stages  of  thinking  or  philosophizing :  the 
theological  stage,  wliich  is  elementary  and  represents  the 
period  of  childhood,  the  metaphysical  stage,  and  the  positive 
stage. 

From  the  theological  or  anthropomorphic  point  of  view, 
cosmical  phenomena  are  governed,  not  by  immutal^le  laws, 
but  by  wills  like  ours.     This  primitive  form  of  thought  has 

Comte  und  tier  Positivistnus,  1890;  same  author,  De'r  Posllivismus  vom 
Tode  Comte^s,  etc.,  1S91  ;  J.  Watson,  Comte,  Mill,  and  Spencer,  New 
York,  1895. —  Tr.]. 

^  1801-1881.  Analyse  raisonne'e  du  cowx  de  philosophie  positive  de 
M.  A.  Comte,  Paris,  1845:  Application  de  la  philosophie  positive  au 
gouvernement  des  societes,  1849  ;  Conservation,  revolution  et  positivisme, 
1852;  Paroles  de  philosophie  positive,  1859;  Auguste  Comte  et  la  philo- 
sophie positive,  1863  ;  Fragments  de  philosophie  positive  et  de  sociolngie 
contemporaine,  1876.  Littre  is  also  the  founder  of  the  Revue  positive 
(1867-83).  His  Dictionnaire  de  la  langue  franqaise  constitutes  his  chief 
claim  to  glory. 

2  John  Stuart  Mill  and  Littre,  however,  wholly  disavow  Auguste 
Comte's  socialistic  Utopias,  which  proceed  from  Saint-Simon.  To 
these  positivists,  properly  so-called,  we  must  add,  as  distinguished  rep- 
resentatives of  the  positivistic  movement,  two  gifted  mathematicians : 
Sophie  Germain  [1776-1831],  who  anticipates  the  system  of  Comte  in 
her  Considerations  generates  sur  Vetat  des  sciences  et  des  lettres  aiix  diffd- 
rentes  e'pof/nes  de  lew  culture  [posthumous  work,  published  by  L'Herbette, 
Paris,  1833],  and  M.  Cournot,  author  of  an  Essai  sur  les  fondements  de 
nos  connaissances  et  sur  les  caracteres  de  la  critique  philosophique  (1851), 
and  of  a  Traile  de  Venchalnement  des  ide'es  fondamentales  dans  les  sciences 
et  dans  I'histoire  (1861),  the  conclusions  of  which  are  obviously  the  same 
as  Comte's. 


POSITIVISM  AND  NEO-CRITICISM  575 

three  stages.  First,  the  objects  themselves  are  regarded 
as  animated,  living,  intelligent  (fetichism).  On  the  next 
stage,  invisible  beings  are  imagined,  each  of  them  gov- 
erning a  certain  gronp  of  objects  or  events  (polytheism). 
In  a  higher  form,  at  last,  all  these  particular  divinities 
are  merged  into  the  conception  of  one  God,  who  created 
the  world  and  now  governs  it  either  directly  or  through 
the  medium  of  supernatural  agents  of  the  second  order 
(monotheism). 

Metapliiisical  thought  no  longer  explains  phenomena  by 
conscious  wills,  but  by  abstractions  considered  as  real 
beings.  Nature  is  no  longer  governed  1)y  an  anthrf)p()mor- 
phous  God,  but  by  a  force,  a  power,  a  principle.  We  repu- 
diate the  divinities  with  which  the  ancients  peopled  nature, 
only  to  replace  them  by  souls,  mysterious  essences.  We 
pretend  to  explain  facts  by  the  tendencies  of  nature,  which  we 
regard  as  a  kind  of  intelligent  rather  than  impersonal  being. 
We  invest  it  with  a  tendency  towards  perfection,  a  /lorror  of 
a  vacuum,  a  curative  virtue  (vis  viedicatrix),  occult  qualities. 
The  metaphysical  view  errs  in  that  it  takes  abstractions  for 
realities. 

The  dominion  of  metaphysics,  more  or  less  influenced  by 
the  theological  spirit,  lasted  until  tlie  end  of  the  Middle 
Ages,  when  the  controversy  between  the  nominalists  and 
the  realists,  the  first  struggle  of  modern  tliought  to  rid  itself 
of  verbal  abstractions,  inaugurated  the  positive  epoch  (I)''S- 
cartes,  Bacon,  Hobbes,  Galileo,  Gassendi,  Newton).  I'iVer 
since  the  advent  of  this  period,  the  positive  explanation  of 
facts  is  gradually  superseding  the  theological  and  metaphys- 
ical explanations,  in  proportion  as  the  advance  of  scientilic 
research  brings  to  liglit  an  increasing  number  of  invarial)ie 
laws. 

Like  pliilos()])liy  in  general,  eueli  science  in  particular 
passes  tlirougli  tiieso  thnn;  consecutive  stages:  the  theo 
logical  state,  the  metaphysical  state,  and  the  positive  stato. 


576  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

Now,  the  various  brandies  of  human  knowledge  have  devel- 
oped with  unequal  rapidity,  and  cannot  simultaneously  pass 
from  one  phase  to  the  other.  The  order  of  succession  in 
which  they  enter  upon  the  metaphysical  stage  and  the  posi- 
tive stage  is  indicated  by  the  logical  order  in  which  they 
follow  each  other.  Thus,  the  search  for  the  order  in  wliich 
the  special  sciences  pass  from  one  phase  of  thought  to  the 
other  leads  Comte  to  construct  his  remarkable  classification 
of  the  sciences. 

In  surveying  the  different  sciences  he  observes  that  they 
are  naturally  arranged  in  an  order  of  increasing  complexity 
and  diminishing  generality:  so  that  each  one  depends  on  the 
truths  of  all  the  sciences  ivhich  precede  it,  plus  stick  truths  as 
properly  helong  to  it. 

The  science  of  number  {arithmetic  and  algehra)  deals 
with  the  most  simple,  and,  at  the  same  time,  most  general 
phenomena ;  the  truths  which  it  formulates  hold  for  all 
things,  and  dej)end  only  upon  themselves.  We  can  study 
it  independently  of  all  other  sciences  ;  hence  it  is  the  fun- 
damental science,  and,  in  a  certain  sense,  the  first  philoso- 
phy. Then  comes  geometry,  Avhich  presupposes  the  laws  of 
number,  and  can  be  studied  without  previous  knowledge  of 
any  other  science  except  arithmetic.  Then  comes  rational 
mechanics,  which  depends  on  the  science  of  number  and 
geometry,  to  which  it  adds  the  laws  of  equilibrium  and 
movement.  The  truths  of  algebra  and  geometry  would  be 
true  even  if  those  of  mechanics  were  not ;  arithmetic,  alge- 
bra, and  geometry,  therefore,  do  not  depend  on  mechanics, 
whereas  the  latter  essentially  dej)ends  on  the  science  of 
number  and  extension.  The  science  of  number  (arithmetic 
and  algebra),  geometry,  and  rational  mechanics  together 
constitute  the  science  of  mathematics,  the  universal  science 
and  sole  basis  of  all  natural  philosoph3\i 

^  Cours  de  philosophie  positive,  vol.  I.  Cf .  Pythagoras,  Plato,  Des- 
cartes. 


POSITIVISM  AND  NEO-CRITICISM  577 

Astronomy  is  directly  connected  with  mathematics.  Its 
truths  rest  on  arithmetical,  geometrical,  and  mechanical 
truths,  upon  which  it  exercises  no  influence,  but  to  wliieh 
it  adds  a  groui)  of  new  facts :  the  laws  of  gravitation.^ 

Astronomy  is  followed  by  j^^i'l/sics,  which  depends  not 
only  on  the  mathematical  sciences,  but  also  on  astronomy, 
for  terrestrial  phenomena  are  influenced  by  the  motion  of 
the  earth  and  of  celestial  bodies.  It  embraces  barologt/,  or 
the  science  of  weight,  a  transition-state  between  astronomy 
and  physics ;  thermologi/,  or  the  science  of  heat ;  acoustics, 
optics,  and  electrology,  a  connecting-link  between  physics 
and  the  science  which  immediately  follows  it  in  the  scale 
of  our  knowledge :  chemistrt/. 

Chemistry  adds  its  own  truths  to  the  laws  of  pli3-sics, 
especially  to  those  of  thermology  and  electrology,  on  which 
it  essentially  depends.^ 

Biology  (ph^-siology)  adds  to  the  laws  of  the  preceding 
sciences  a  group  of  special  laws. 

Finally,  at  the  top  of  the  scale,  we  have  social  physics  or 
sociology^  which,  in  turn,  depends  on  all  the  precethng 
sciences,  and  adds  new  data  to  them.  In  fact,  the  laws  of 
organic  and  animal  life,  as  well  as  tliose  of  inorganic 
nature,  influence  human  society,  either  by  directly  acting 
upon  life,  or  by  determining  the  physical  conditions  under 
which  society  is  developed. 

With  the  sciences  which  Comte  calls  uhstrnct  are  con- 
nected the  respective  concrete  sciences :  with  pliysics  and 
chemistry,  abstract  sciences,  mineralog}^  a  concrete  sci- 
ence ;  with  physiology,  an  abstract  science,  zoology  and 
botany,  concrete  sciences.  The  latter  are  concerned  with 
existing  beings  and  ol^jcets ;  the  former,  with  the  general 
laws  of  occnrrencL'.  The  concrete  scieiic-i's  necessarily 
advance  more  slowly  than  the  abstract  sciences,  since  they 

'   Cours  lie  jihiloxojihie  positive,  vol.  1 1. 
"-  l<l.,  vol.  III.  a  /,/.^  vuLs.  IV.-V. 

37 


578  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

depend  on  these.     Hence  they  have  not  yet  passed  beyond 
the  descriptive  stage. 

The  abstract  sciences  (mathematics,  astronomy,  physics, 
chemistry,  biology,  sociology)  pass  from  tlie  theological 
phase  to  the  metaphysical  and  positive  phase,  in  the  order 
of  their  simplicity.  The  more  complex  a  science  is,  the 
more  obstacles  it  throws  in  the  way  of  the  human  mind  in 
general  as  well  as  of  the  individual  in  particular.  Thus, 
mathematics,  the  simplest  of  the  sciences,  has,  for  thousands 
of  years,  been  almost  positive.  Forsooth,  it  never  was  the- 
ological in  the  sense  that  any  man  of  common-sense  ever 
prayed  to  God  to  make  three  times  three  ten,  or  the  sum  of 
the  angles  of  a  triangle  exceed  t^vo  right-angles.  It  was 
understood,  from  the  very  beginning,  that  in  these  matters 
there  can  be  no  intervention  of  freedom  whatsoever. 

We  cannot  say  the  same  for  astronomy.  It  had  its  theo- 
logical period,  during  which  the  stars  were  conceived 
either  as  divinities,  or  as  moved  by  many  divine  wills 
(polytheism),  or  by  one  divine  will  (monotheism).  To  this 
phase  belongs  the  miracle  of  Joshua.  It  had  its  metaphysi- 
cal epoch,  during  which  the  regular  motion  of  the  heavenly 
bodies  was  explained  by  their  tendency  towards  perfection. 
Aristotle  is  almost  a  theologian  in  astronomy ;  even  Coper- 
nicus and  Kepler  are  still  metaphysicians,  and  this  science 
does  not  attain  to  its  positive  phase  until  the  days  of 
Newton.  In  our  age  positive  astronomy  has  become  a  part 
of  the  popular  consciousness.  True,  we  still  pray  to  God 
for  rain  and  good  weather,  but  we  no  longer  ask  him  to 
arrest  the  apparent  motion  of  the  sun,  or  to  change  the 
celestial  orbits.  We  are  still  theologians  in  meteorology, 
because,  in  this  field,  the  uniformity  of  phenomena  is  less 
marked,  and  because  their  apparent  irregularity,  joined 
with  our  ignorance  of  their  true  laws,  favors  the  super- 
stitious belief  that  they  are  governed  by  a  free  will. 
Astronomy,  however,  has  abandoned  this  view. 


POSITIVISM  AND  NEO-CRITICISM  57^ 

Physics  and  chemistiy  were  theologico-metaphysical  sci- 
ences longer  than  the  science  of  celestial  bocUes.  They 
abound  in  occult  qualities,  horrors,  sympathies,  and  other 
abstractions  assumed  to  be  realities.  Chemistry  was  alchemy 
down  to  the  eighteenth  century,  and  did  not  become  a  pos- 
itive science  until  the  days  of  Lavoisier.  It  took  phj-si- 
ology  still  longer  to  reach  the  threshold  of  positivism.  Un- 
til recently  (tliink  of  Slahl's  animism,  of  vitalism,  Schelling 
and  Oken)  it  was  right  in  the  midst  of  metaphysics,  and 
positive  biology  does  not  go  back  farther  than  to  Bichat. 
Finally,  sociology  (moral  and  political  science)  has  not  yet 
sui-mounted  the  barriers  which  separate  metaphysics  from 
positivism.  Many  of  its  thinkers  have  not  even  passed  the 
theological  stage  (De  ]\Iaistre,  De  Bonald,  the  theological 
school).^  It  is  true,  attempts  at  political  positivism  were 
made  by  Ilobljes  and  Spinoza,  who  treated  of  man  "  as 
though  he  were  dealing  with  lines,  surfaces,  and  bodies ;  " 
but  their  efforts  met  A\'ith  no  response.  The  eigliteenth 
century  and  the  Revolution  prepared  the  Avay  for  positive 
social  science,  without,  however,  establishing  it.  Positivism 
claims  the  honor  of  having  founded  it. 

Political  and  social  ideas  succeed  each  other  accordincr 
to  a  fixed  law.  As  soon  as  this  law  is  known,  history 
will  cease  to  be  a  chaos,  and  become  a  science  like  jjhysics 
and  astronomy.  Historical  facts  follow  each  other  mid  are 
connected  with  the  same  necessity  as  Ijiological  i)lifiioiiK'iia. 
Formerly,  one  miglit  have  ])elieved  that  ciiiiu's  and  olTciices 
vary  considerably  from  year  to  yeai-,  that  chance  and  I'ree- 
will  are  more  ])reval('nt  in  tliis  field  than  anywhere  else. 
But   the    statistics   })ul)lis]ied    by  our  govi-ninients  prove 

■  TIk:;  llirologicul  sdiool,  chiefly  reprosented  by  Di-  Hoiialil  (17.")1- 
1810)  and  Joseph  do  Maistn"  (1753-181^1),  opjioscs  to  individiial  ri'u- 
Bon  the  "  universal  n-itson,"  to  human  philosojdiy  "  (Ii\  in."  )>hil(isopliy  " 
asset  forth  in  tin*  rcvcali-d  (lo;,Mna,  to  tlic  thcorifsof  |iulitic;i!  and  leli 
gious  liheralisin  the  theocratic  syst^-ni  now  callrd  iiltra-nioutanisni. 


580  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

the  contrary.  We  must  therefore  insist  upon  the  essential 
notion  that  historical  events,  i.  e.,  social  phenomena,  are, 
like  everything  else,  subject  to  fixed  laws,  and  that  super- 
natural interventions  play  no  part  in  the  development  of 
societies. 

When  social  ethics  will  have  been  raised  to  the  rank  of 
positive  science,  that  is,  of  science,  —  for  positive  science 
alone  is  true  science,  —  the  totality  of  sciences,  i.  e., 
philosophy,  will  be  positive.  Positive  philosophy  is  no 
longer  a  separate  science,  it  is  the  synthesis,  the  systematic 
co-ordination  of  human  knowledge.  Emanating  from  the 
sciences,  it  does  not  differ  from  them  in  method :  it  em- 
ploys the  method  of  experience,  supplemented  by  induc- 
tion and  deduction.  Positive  pliilosophy,  moreover,  is 
philosophy  in  the  true  sense  of  the  word,  since  it  has  for 
its  object  the  lohole  of  phenomena,  the  uiiiverse.  It  is  the 
business  of  positivism  to  study  this  totality,  to  unify  the 
entire  field  of  human  knowledge,  to  make  the  sciences  phi- 
losophical and  philosophy  scientific,  to  give  the  former  the 
unity  they  need,  and  the  latter  the  prestige  which  it  lost  in 
consequence  of  its  recent  indiscretions. 

The  reign  of  metaphysics  is  nearing  its  end.  The  reason 
why  the  serious  thinkers  of  the  day  are  abandoning  it  is 
plain :  it  never  was  a  real  science ;  all  it  did,  in  ancient  as 
well  as  in  modern  times,  was  to  turn  out  hypotheses  after 
hypotheses,  having  no  stability  whatsoever.  The  systems 
which  it  brought  forth  antagonize  each  other  in  their  very 
principles.  The  history  of  the  sciences  represents  a  con- 
tinuous advance :  what  is  once  acquired  is  retained  for- 
ever. In  metaphj-sics,  on  the  other  hand,  everything  is  in 
a  state  of  perpetual  agitation  and  endless  revolution.  Meta- 
physics has,  undoubtedl}^,  had  its  historical  mission,  and 
has  creditably  discharged  its  task.  It  has  demolished  the 
religions,  and  prepared  the  field  for  positive  science.  In 
Greece,   it   overthrew   the   polytheistic   faith  and   substi- 


POSITIVISM  AND  NEO-CRITICISM  681 

tuted  monotheism  for  it ;  in  the  Clnistian  worhl,  it  pro- 
duced tlie  heresies  which,  little  by  little,  weakened  and 
disorganized  the  Catholic  system.  But  this  essentially 
negative  and  critical  task  is  now  fultilled,  and  the  futility 
of  its  efforts  of  two  thousand  years,  when  compared  with 
the  rapid  and  continuous  advance  of  the  sciences,  clearly 
proves  that  it  is  merely  a  transitory  form  in  the  history  of 
the  human  mind.^ 

The  preceding  summary  emhraces  the  philosophy  of 
Comte  and  Littrt^,  excepting  the  political  and  sociological 
doctrines  of  the  Comtian  system.  A  mixture  of  positivism, 
mathematics,  and  humanitarian  idealism,  it  exaggerates  the 
views  represented  in  the  eighteenth  century  by  the  Ency- 
clopedia, and  especially  by  the  D'Alemberts,  the  Turgots, 
and  the  Condorcets.  Although  the  positivism  of  John 
Stuart  Mill  ^  and  Herbekt  Spencer,^  which  proceeds 

1  Cours  de  la  phUosophie  positive,  vol.  VI.,  pp.  Oto  if.  Little,  Ana- 
lyse raisonnee,  pp.  55  ft'. 

2  J,  Stuart  Mill  (1800-1873)  is  the  author  of  a  Si/stein  of  Lor/ic, 
Ratiocinative  and  Inductice,  London,  1813  ft".:  a  capital  work,  which 
aims  to  do  for  induction  what  Aristotle  had  already  done  for  deductive 
rea.soning,  i.  e.,  to  reduce  the  inductive  process  (inference)  to  exact  rules 
and  a  scientific  criterion.  He  also  wrote  :  Examinallon  of  Sir  William 
Hamilton's  Philosophy,  1805  [5th  ed.  1878];  Comte  and  Posilirism,  1805; 
\_Utilitarianism,  1S0:5;  new  ed.,  1871;  Nature,  1874  (posthumous); 
Autobiography,  1873.  Cf.  Jevons's  criticism,  reprinted  in  Pure  Logic, 
London,  1890;  A.  Bain,  John  Stuart  Mill,  a  Criticism,  London,  1SS2; 
H.  Lauret,  PhUosophie  de  St.  Mill,  Paris,  1886;  C.  Douglas,/.  S.  Mill; 
a  Study  of  his  Philosophy,  Edinl>urgh  and  London,  1805.  See  also 
"Watson  and  the  works  montioned  in  next  note.  —  Tij.] 

8  Ilerhert  Spencer  (1>orn  1820)  developed  liis  system,  whose  leadiup 
conception  is  evolution  (see  §  00),  in  his  [Social  Statics,  London,  1851, 
2d  ed.,  1871;  Principles  of  Psychology,  1855;  2(1  ed.,  1872;  5tli  ed., 
1890;  First  Principles,  1862;  7tli  ed.,  1889;  Principles  of  Biology,  1803- 
1807;  4th  ed.,  1888;  Principles  of  Sociology,  vol.  L,  1870;  3d  ed.,  1885; 
vol.  II.,  1879-1885;  Principles  tf  Ethics  (\y,\rt  I.,  The  Data  of  Ethics, 
1879;  0th  ed.,  1802;  l)art  II.,  The  Inductions  of  Ethics,  1802;  part  III., 
The  Ethics  <f  Individual  Life,   18:)2;  part   IV.,  Justice,   ISOI).     His 


582  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

from  Hume,  Locke,  and  Bacon,  recognizes  the  merits  of 
Auguste  Comte,  it  is  not  so  bold  as  the  latter's.  More- 
over, it  does  not  indulge  in  the  socialistic  dreams  of  the 
French  philosopher.  Its  ontology  strikes  a  liappy  mean 
between  a  trivial  spiritualism  and  a  vulgar  materialism. 
Besides,  it  remains,  more  strictly  than  the  positivists 
of  France,  within  the  limits  assigned  to  S|)eculation  by 
the  criticism  of  Hume  and  Kant,  and  carefully  avoids 
all  philosophy  of  the  absolute  as  contradictory  of  posi- 
tivistic  principles,  not  taking  sides,  ahsohUcUj,  either 
with  materialism  or  with  spiritualism,  which,  as  meta- 
physical systems,  both  transcend  the  boundaries  of  the 
knowable. 

For  tliis  moderate,  practical,  and  truly  English  form  of 
positivism,  there  is  nothing  absolute  even  in  determinism. 

work  on  Education,  published  1863,  has  passed  through  twenty-three 
editions.  Authorized  Epitome  of  the  Synthetic  Philosophy,  by  F.  H. 
Collins,  1889. — Tr.]  The  "  first  "  principles  to  which  he  reduces 
everything,  matter,  motion,  and  force,  are  but  "  symbols  of  the  un- 
known reality,"  "  a  power  of  which  the  nature  remains  forever  incon- 
ceivable." The  materialists  call  it  matter,  the  spiritualists,  mind:  but 
"  their  controversy  is  a  mere  war  of  words,  in  which  the  disputants 

are  equally  absurd each  thinking  he  understands  that  which  it  is 

impossible  for  any  man  to  understand."  {First  Principles,  American 
edition,  Summary  and  Conclusion,  p.  557.)  [On  Spencer,  see  :  B.  P. 
Bowne,  The  Philosophy  of  H.  Spencer,  New  York,  1874,  also  Wat- 
son, and  Green  {Works,  vol.  I.).  —  Tr.]  English  positivism,  which, 
besides  the  thinkers  just  mentioned,  is  represented  by  Alexander 
Bain  {The  Senses  and  the  Intellect,  1856;  4th  ed.,  1894;  The  Emotions 
and  the  Will,  1859;  3d  ed.,  1875  ;  Menial  and  Moral  Science,  1868;  3d 
ed.,  1872];  S.  Bailey  [The  Theory  of  Reasnnincj,  1851 ;  The  Philosophy 
of  the  Human  Mind,  1855];  G.  H.  Lewes  [Com/e's  Philosophy,  1847,- 
Problems  of  Life  and  Mind,  3d  ed.,  1874] ;  Buckle  [History  of  Cimli 
zation  in  England,  1857-1860].  See  H.  Taine,  Le  positivisme  anglais, 
e'tude  sur  J.  S.  Mill,  Paris,  1864,  and  Th.  Ribot,  La  psychologie  anglaise 
contemporaine,  2d  ed.,  1875  [Engl,  translation.  New  York,  1801].  [John 
Fiske,  Outlines  of  Cosmic  Philosophy,  New  York,  1874  ff.,  is  an  Ameri- 
can disciple  of  Herbert  Spencer.] 


POSITIVISM  AND  NEO-CRITICISM  583 

Determinism  is,  in  its  eyes,  a  hypothesis  with  which  the 
sciences  cannot  dispense,  and  which  daily  leads  to  new 
advances,  but  a  hypothesis  none  the  less.  Experience 
shows  us  that  facts  succeed  each  other  in  regular  order, 
hut  since  it  deals  only  with  a  small  piece  of  the  world  and 
with  a  short  period  of  time,  we  cannot  tell  whether  the 
order  in  question  is  ahsolutehj  uniform,  and  whether  the 
succession  of  the  antecedent,  which  we  call  the  cause, 
and  of  the  consequent,  which  we  call  the  effect,  is  necessary 
in  the  metaphysical  sense.  It  is  even  conceivable  that 
there  should  be,  in  certain  stellar  regions,  an  entire  absence 
of  laws  of  succession,  and  that  absolute  indeterminism 
should  prevail  there.  We  may,  according  to  the  same 
thinker,  without  proving  untrue  to  the  principles  of  posi- 
tivism, assume  an  intelligent  and  free  Creator.  We  can 
never  reach  the  absolute ;  the  relative  alone  belongs  to  us. 
We  consequently  proceed  as  thour/h  the  law  established  by 
observation  and  induction  were  immutable,  as  though  the 
order  of  facts  were  constant,  as  though  the  determinism  of 
phenomena  were  universal  and  absolute.  That  is  to  say, 
we  invariably  proceed  like  the  positive  and  experimental 
sciences,  whicli  have  no  need  to  trouble  themselves  about 
the  absolute  and  lirst  causes ;  we  merely  wisli  to  sul^stitute 
positive  science  for  metaphysics,  preferring  to  a  science  that 
caZZs  t7se// absolute,  and  that  is  in  reality  hollow  and  l)ar- 
ren,  a  science  that  knows  that  it  is  relative,  but  gradually 
brings  nature  under  the  sway  of  man  and  his  industry,  a 
science  that  is  useful  and  the  source  of  all  progress. 

In   Germany  Neo-Kantianism  or  Neo-Criticism  ^   corre- 

1  Positivism  also  has  its  representatives  in  rioruiany.  W<'  may 
consider  as  such  :  Knjjen  DUhring,  liorn  l.s;{:5  (A-  tempore,  s/xitio, 
causalitate,  etc.,  Berlin,  1805;  Krithche  Gtschichle  <ler  P/iilosnpliit',  [th 
e<l.,  Leipsic,  1801;  Curnus  <kr  Philosophie,  ISTO;  Loyik  uud  Wisscn- 
schaftslehre,  1878;  etc.);  .1.  II.  von  Kirchniami,  1802-1881,  aiillior  of 
£1  HVstein  wliidi  he  calls  reaUsni,  an<l  which  he  sets  fortli  in  a  nunilicr 


584  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

spends  to  French  and  English  positivism,  which  is  inspired 
by  Hume  and  Condillac.  Kant,  who  never  ceased  to  have 
disciples  abroad,^  was  neglected  in  liis  own  country  and 
almost  thrown  aside.  Since  1860  the  cry  "  Back  to 
Kant "  2  has  become  the  watchword  of  a  new  school,  the 
principal  leader  of  which  is  Albeht  Lange,^  the  eminent 
author  of  the  History  of  Materialism^  Lange  is  willing 
to  ao-ree  with  materialism  as  long  as  it  does  not  presume 
to  be  a  system  of  metaphysics,  but  contents  itself  with 
being  a  scientific  method.  Materialism,  in  other  words,  is 
well-founded  when  it  means  mechanism,  absolute  negation 

of  writings  ("  thought  and  being  have  the  same  content,  but  differ  in 
form  ")  [Die  Philosophie  des  Wissens,  Berlin,  1864]  ;  Ernst  Laas,  1836- 
1885  {Idealismus  und  Positivlsmus,  3  parts,  Berlin,  1879-84) ;  etc. 
Positivism  or  German  realism  differs  from  Neo-Criticism  in  that  it 
assumes  the  objective  reality  of  space,  time,  matter,  and  does  not, 
like  many  Neo-Kantians,  incline  to  Schopenhauer's  pessimism.  Diih- 
ring,  particularly,  "the  philosopher  of  reality  "  (Wirklichkeitsphilosoph), 
is  both  dogmatic  (in  opposition  to  Albert  Lange,  Liebmann,  etc.)  and 
optimistic  (in  opposition  to  Ed.  von  Hartmann). 

1  The  most  deserving  of  these  disciples  is  Charles  Renouvier, 
author  of  JSIanuels  de  pJiihsophie  ancienne  et  moderne  (p.  14,  note  4) ; 
Essals  de  critique  ge'ne'rcde,  4  vols.,  Paris,  18.54-64  ;  Science  de  la  morale, 
2  vols.,  Saint-Cloud,  1869,  etc  ;  and,  from  1872-1889,  editor  of  the 
Critique  philosophique,  politique,  scierttijique,  lilteraire,  a  worthy  rival  of 
the  Revue  philoxophique  of  Th.  Ptibot.  Unlike  German  Neo-Criticism, 
which  ascribes  only  a  secondary  importance  to  the  ethics  of  the  mas 
ter,  Renouvier  regards  it  as  the  key-stone  of  the  Kantian  system. 
[The  Anne'e  philosophique,  founded  in  1890  by  Francois  Pillon,  and 
edited  with  the  cooperation  of  the  veteran  Renouvier,  is  the  able 
successor  of  the  Critique.  —  Tr.] 

2  [Otto  Liebmann  concludes  each  chapter  of  his  work,  Kant  und 
die  Epigonen,  Stuttgart,  1865,  with  the  refrain :  Also  7)iuss  auf  Kant 
zuriicl-gegangen  werden  (hence  we  must  go  back  to  Kant).  —  Tr.] 

3  1828-1875.     Professor  at  Marburg. 

*  [Iserlohn,  1866  ;  4th  (popular)  ed.  (without  index  and  notes), 
Iserlohn,  1882;  5th  ed.,  ed.  by  H.  Cohen,  Leipsic,  1896  ;  Engl,  transl. 
by  E.  C.  Thomas,  3  vols.,  London,  1878-81 ;  Logische  Studien,  1877. 
-Tr.] 


POSITIVISM  AXD  NEO-CRITICISM  585 

of  final  causes.  But,  he  aikls,  materialism  becomes  an 
illusion  and  an  error  as  soon  as  it  professes  to  be  a  solution 
of  the  ontological  problem,  an  explanation  of  the  ultimate 
essence  of  things.  What  is  matter  ?  An  idea  and  nothing 
more,  a  representation  of  the  mind  ( VorstellungsUld)^ 
Avhich,  we  imagine,  corresponds  to  an  objective  reality,  an 
ens  ill  se.  But  between  this  idea  and  this  reality,  there  is 
a  gulf  which  nothing,  absolutely  nothing,  can  bridge  over. 
Nay,  more  than  that.  In  so  far  as  we  know  matter  only 
as  an  idea  (_ which  is  in  us),  idealism,  and  not  materialism, 
is  true.  Furthermore,  idealism  has  its  undeniable  raison 
d'etre  in  the  fact  that  it  is  inchspensable  to  human  life  and 
happiness.  The  ideal  and  metaphysics  retain  all  their 
lights ;  but,  like  religion  and  art,  they  have  their  rights 
ly  the  side  of  science,  not  in  science.  Science  —  as  Kant 
has  demonstrated  unquestionably  and  for  all  times  to  come 
—  cannot  reach  the  thing-in-itself,  the  absolute.  Let  phi- 
losophy, therefore,  frankly  and  definitively  abandon  meta- 
physics, and  confine  itself  to  the  sphere  of  the  knowable, 
that  is,  facts.  Onl}'  upon  this  condition  will  it  become  what 
it  ceased  to  be  in  the  hands  of  Kant's  successors :  science. 

Neo-Criticism,  we  see,  forms  but  a  part  of  Kantianism. 
It  is  the  Kantianism  of  the  Critique  of  Pure  Reason,  Kantr 
ianism  minus  the  categorical  imperative  and  the  postulates 
of  practical  reason,  i.  e.,  scepticism  in  metaphysics,  or,  as 
we  should  say  in  France,  Positivism. 

Around  the  standard  of  Positivism,  freed  from  tlie  par- 
ticular ideas  of  Comte,  and  Neo-Criticism  are  gathered  most 
of  the  scientific  and  literary  celebrities  of  our  time  :  men 
like  Claude  Bernard,^  E.  Du  Bois-Keymond,^  H.  Helm- 

J  1813-1878. 

*  [Born  1818.]  Uehcr  die  Grenzen  des  Nnlurerkennens  (On  the 
Limits  of  iJifi  Knowledge  of  Nature),  Berlin,  1872;  7tli  ed.,  1801;  [Die 
sit'hfin  Wellrdth.iel  {The  Seven  World-riddles),  Berlin,  1880;  liolli  in  his 
Reden  uud  Au/sdtze,  188"J.]      Ills  iiHjttcj  is:   hjnoramus  et  iynondiimus. 


586  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

HOLTZ,^  VIRCHO^Y,2  W.  WuNDT,^  H.  Taine,*  E.  Renan,^ 

ScH^REB.^  Their  pliilosopliy,  wliicli  we  may  call  the  ^3osi- 
tivisme  dcs  savants,"^  is  realistic  in  so  far  as  it  is  based  solely 
on  reality,  on  facts,  on  observation  and  experience  ;  ideal- 
istic, in  so  far  as  it  recognizes  that  the  reality  accessible  to 

1  See  p.  563,  note  5.  2  See  p.  563,  note  4. 

8  [Born  1832.  Vorlesungen  Uher  die  Menschen  und  T/uerseele,  Leip- 
sic,  1863  ;  2d  ed.,  1892 ;  Engl.  tr.  by  J.  E.  Creighton  and  E.  B.  Titch- 
ener  {Human  and  Animal  Psychology),  New  York,  1895]  ;  Grundzuge  der 
phy^iologischen  Psychologie,  2  vols.,  1873-74;  [4th  ed.,  1893];  Logik,  2 
vols.,  Stuttgart,  1880-83;  [2d  ed.,  1893];  Essays,  1885;  Elhlk,  Stutt- 
gart, 1886  ;  [2d  ed.,  1892];  System  der  FkUosophie,  1889.  In  this  last 
work,  one  of  the  most  important  to  appear  in  recent  years,  Wilhelra 
Wundt  shows  himself  in  a  new  and  unexpected  light.  He  concedes  to 
metaphysics  its  raison  d'etre  and  the  rank  which  belongs  to  it  in  the 
hierarchy  of  sciences,  provided  it  be  empirical  and  positive.  His  system 
is  not,  however,  one  of  those  innovations  which  claim  to  be  raised  upon 
the  ruins  of  the  past,  but  a  vast  scientific  synthesis  and  a  happy  at- 
tempt at  a  reconciliation  of  the  rival  doctrines  of  modern  speculation. 
The  whole  work  is  conceived  in  that  elevated,  moderate,  conciliatory, 
and  impersonal  spirit  that  characterizes  the  true  philosopher.  The 
psychologist  of  Leipsic  is  also,  let  us  add,  a  decided  adherent  of  volun- 
tarism.    (See  §  71.)     \_Grundriss  der  Psychologie,  Leipsic,  1896.] 

*  [1828-1893.]  De  V intelligence,  2  vols.,  1870  ;  2ded.,  1882  ;  [Engl, 
tr   by  Haye,  1871.] 

6  [1823-1892.]  La  reforme  intellectuelle  et  morale,  2d  ed.,  Paris, 
1872;  PhilosopMe  de  I'art,  2d  ed.,  1872;  Dialogues  et  fragments  philoso- 
pJiiques,  1876  ;  [Engl  tr.,  1883;  Vie  de  Jesus,  1863;  Engl.  tr.  by  Wil- 
bour.] 

6  1815-1889.  See,  especially,  the  Introduction  to  Melanges  d'histoire 
religieuse,  2d  ed.,  Paris,  186.5. 

^  Its  organs  are :  the  Revue  philosophique  of  Th.  Ribot  (the  distin- 
guished psychologist  and  author  of  La  psychologie  anglaise  conlempo- 
raine,  1875,  La  psychologie  allemande  contemporaine,  1879,  Uheredite 
psychologique,  2d  ed.,  1882;  [translations  of  these  and  other  works  of 
Eibot  published  by  the  Open  Court  Publishing  Co.,  Chicago] ;  the 
Zeitschrift  fur  icissenschaftliche  PhilosopMe  of  Avenarius  ;  the  Rivista  di 
filosofa  scientifica;  Mind,  a  Quarterly  Review  of  PsT/chology  and  Philoso^ 
phy  ;  [the  Monist  of  Paul  Carus,  Fundamental  Problems,  2ded.,  Chicago, 
1893  ;   The  Soul  of  Man,  etc.] ;  etc. 


CONCLUSION  587 

human  consciousness  is,  in  the  last  analysis,  merely  phe- 
nomenal, that  the  facts  are,  after  all,  only  our  ideas,  con- 
sidered as  signs  or  symbols  of  a  reality  unknowable  in 
itself. 

§  71.     Conclusion 

Although  positivistic  monism  is  the  dominant  feature 
of  the  pliilosophy  of  the  nineteenth  century,  spiritualism 
ha-s  been  struggling  valiantly,  since  the  days  of  Reid,  to 
hold  its  own.  Kant,  who  pitilessly  destroyed  it  in  his 
Critique  of  Pure  licason,  calls  it  back  to  life  in  his  moral 
postulates,  and,  ultimately,  renders  it  a  signal  service.  F. 
H.  Jacobi,^  whom  Ave  found  among  the  opponents  of  the 
Critique,  defends  spiritualism  against  the  pantheism  of 
Spinoza,  Schelling,  and  Hegel,  by  appealing  to  the  inner 
sense.  The  theologian  and  philosopher  Schleiermacher,^ 
although  an  enthusiastic  Spinozist,  indirectly  advances  the 
spiritualistic  cause  by  his  appeal  to  religious  feeling  (das 
fromme  Gefilhl)  and  the  "awakening"  which  it  tends  to 
produce.^    Christian  F.  Krause,*  a  thinker  of  great  merit, 

1  See  §  63. 

*  17f!8-lS:M.  A  disciple  of  Spinoza  (thonsli  an  original  disciple, 
like  Herder),  Scheierniach -^r  attempts,  especially  in  liis  ethics,  to 
reconcile  the  monism  of  the  master  with  the  principle  of  individual 
spontaneity,  by  substituting  for  the  abstract  idea  of  unity  the  concrete 
principle  of  harmony.  His  theory  of  knowledge,  as  set  forth  in  the 
first  part  of  his  Dlalekllk,  is  likewise  a  happy  attempt  to  reconcile  the 
nihil  in  inlelledu  of  the  pure  sensationalists  and  the  nihil  in  senxu  of 
Fichte  and  Ilegel.  [Complete  works,  Herlin,  1835-04.  lietlcn  iiher 
die  Religion,  etc.,  1709  ;  Kng.  tv.  by  J.  Oman,  London,  18!>3  ;  Afonnloffcn, 
IbOO;  Grundriss  der  philosophischen  Ethik;  ed.  by  A.  Twesten,  18U.] 

'  The  essence  of  religion  is,  according  to  him,  the  feeling  of  de- 
pendence on  the  infinit<i. 

*  1781-183-J.  Grundlage  des  A^a/un-fcA/.s -Tena,  1803  ;  Entwiirf  dcs 
Systems  der  Philosophic,  Jena,  1801;  System  drr  Sitlrnlehre,  Leijisic, 
1810;  [2ded.,  1HS7];  etc.  Krause's  stylf,  wliich  is  often  unintelligi- 
ble, greatly  retarded  the  success  of  his  philitsophy.  'I'Ih-  following  were 
his  adherents  :  tlie  (jlerman  Ahrens  (died  in  Leipsic,  187 1),  author  of 


588  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

but  unappreciated  in  his  own  country,  substitutes  for  pan- 
theism  loancntheism^  or  the  doctrine  of  the  immanency  of 
things  in  God,  considered  as  a  transcendent  personality  and 
yet  united  in  substance  with  the  creature.  Christian  H. 
Weisse,!  Immaxuel  Hermann  Fichte,^  a  son  of  the 
celebrated  philosopher,  Hermann  Ulrici,  J.  U.  WniTH, 
MoRiTZ  Carriere,^  H.  M.  Chalybaeus,*  opposed  to  this 
doctrine  the  system  of  speculative  theism.  A.  Trendelen- 
burg,^ inspired  by  the  teleology  of  Aristotle,  teaches  a  sys- 
tem of  metaphysics,  whose  leading  thought  is  the  idea  of 
movement,  the  common  essence  of  thought  and  being. 
Schelling,  in  his  later  stage,  Christoffer  Jacob  Bos- 
TROM  6  of  Upsala,  Herjuann  Lotze,"  Gustav  Fechxer,^ 

Corns  de  pJiilosophie,  Paris,  1836-38;  Cows  de  droit  naturel  ou  philoso- 
phle  du  droit,  Paris,  1838;  Cows  de  philosophie  de  Phistoire,  Brussels, 
184:0 ;  the  Belgian  Tiberghien,  author  of  Essai  theorique  et  pratique  sur 
la  generation  des  connaissances  humaines,  Paris  and  Leipsic,  1844; 
Esquisse  de  pJiilosophie  morale,  Brussels,  1854  ;  Logique,  Paris,  1865  ;  the 
Frenchman  Boueliitte,  author  of  tlie  article  on  Krause  in  the  Diction- 
naire  des  sciences  pJiilosophiques  ;  the  Spaniard  J.  S.  del  Rio,  who  trans- 
lated several  of  his  works ;  etc.  Krause  has  to  this  day  many  dis- 
ciples in  Spain. 

1  1801-1866.  Die  Idee  der  Gottheit,  Dresden,  1833 ;  Grundzuge  der 
Metaphysik,  Hamburg,  1835  ;  etc. 

2  1797-1879.  Spekulative  Theologie,  Heidelberg,  1846-47  ;  System 
der  Ethik,  Leipsic,  1850-53  ;  etc. 

*  These  three,  together  with  Weisse  and  the  younger  Fichte,  found- 
ed the  Zeitschrift  fiir  Philosophie  wid  philosophische  Kritik.  They  are 
writers  of  note. 

*  [1792-1862.]  System  der  speculativen  Ethik,  2  vols.,  Leipsic,  1850; 
etc. 

'  1802-1872.  Professor  at  Berlin,  and  author  of  Logische  Unter- 
suchungen,  2  vols.,  3d  ed.,  Berlin,  1870  ;  etc. 

^  On  Bostrom  and  Scandinavian  philosophy  see  the  sketch  of  K.  R. 
Geijer  in  Ueberweg's  History  of  Philosophy,  7th  ed.,  §  49,  pp.  536  ff. 

''  See  p.  542,  note  2. 

8  1801-1887.  The  founder  of  psycho-physics,  or  the  science  of  the 
mathematical  relations  of  physics  and  psychology;  author  of  Ueher 


CONCLUSION  589 

Charles  Secretan,^  Erxest  Naville,^  and,  within 
Catholic  circles,  Franz  Baader,-^  Lamennais,*^  BAUTiUN,^ 

das  hochste  Gut,  Leipsic,  1816;  Nanjia  oder  uber  das  Seelenleben  der 
PJlanze,  lSi8;  Zendavesta,  1851;  Elemente  der  Psychophysik,  18G0 ; 
Die  drei  Motive  und  Grilnde  des  Glaubens,  1863  ;  Die  Tagesansicht  ije- 
geniiber  der  Naclitansicht,  1879  ;  \_Da$  Buddein  com  Leben  nach  dem  Tode, 
1836  ;  3d  ed.,  1887.  Friedrich  Paulsen,  born  1846,  teaches  a  system 
of  metaphysics  similar  to  Fechner's  in  his  Einhituny  in  die  Philoi^opkie, 
Berlin,  1891 ;  4th  ed.,  1895 ;  Engl.  tr.  by  Frank  Thilly,  Xew  York, 
1895]. 

1  Philosophie  de  la  libert,',  2d  ed.,  1872  ;  Recherche  de  la  methode  ; 
Pre'cis  de  philosophie,  etc.  The  Philosophy  of  Liberty  is  the  boldest  at- 
tempt at  a  speculative  construction  of  the  dogma  of  moral  freedom 
which  has  been  made  since  the  days  of  Schelling. 

2  Publisher  of  the  posthumous  works  of  Maine  de  Biran,  and  author 
of :  La  vie  e'ternelle,  Geneva,  1861 ;  Le  probleine  du  mat,  1868;  Le  devoir, 
1868,  etc. 

*  1765-1841.  Professor  in  ]\Iunich ;  a  disciple  of  Bbhme,  to  whose 
theosophy  he  introduced  his  friend  and  colleague  Schelling.  Ilis 
complete  works  have  been  published  by  his  zealous  adherent,  Franz 
Hoffmann,  in  16  vols.,  Leipsic,  1851-60. 

*  1782-185  L  Esquisse  d''une  philosophie,  4  vols.,  Paris,  1841—46.  lu 
this  masterpiece  of  speculative  theology,  the  abbe  de  Lamennais,  in- 
spired by  the  Xeo-Platonic  and  Schellingian  theory  of  emanation,  con- 
ceives creation  as  the  unfolding,  in  space  and  time,  of  the  divine  unity 
and  its  infinite  content.  It  is,  on  the  part  of  the  absolute  being,  an 
eternal  act  of  immolation  and  sacrifice,  by  which  God,  who  is  force  or 
power,  form  or  intelligence,  and  life  or  love,  gives  his  very  substance 
to  his  creatures,  according  to  a  progression  in  which  the  complexity 
and  unity  go  on  increasing,  from  the  nebular  ether  to  the  intelligent 
and  free  being.  And  just  as  the  divine  life  is  a  perpetual  sacrifice, 
each  creature  dies  in  order  to  transmit  its  life  to  other  creatures.  Each 
is  nourished  by  all,  and  all  are  nourished  Ijy  God.  Ileraclitus  (§  8) 
had  said  before  him  :  "  Mortals  live  the  life  of  the  gods,  and  the  gods 
the  life  of  mortals." 

8  1796-1807.  Professor  and  canon  at  Strasburg,  and,  since  1819, 
Vicar-General  of  the  diocese  of  Paris.  His  system  is  contained  in: 
La  philosophic  dn  rhrislianisrne,  2  vols.,  Strasburg,  1833;  La  philosophie 
morale,  2  V(j1s  ,  Paris,  1852  ;  and  L'esprit  huiii'iin  I't  si's  fnriilli's,  2  vols., 
Paris,  1859.  Unlike  Lamennais,  the  alibe  IJautain,  who  was  at  first 
liberal,  unreservedly  submits  to  the  dogma  of  the  Church. 


590  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

Gkatry,^  Rosmini,2  Gioberti,^  Froschammer,*  and  many 
others,  attempt  to  reconcile  the  spiritualistic  faith  and  the 
monistic  instinct  of  reason  by  means  of  syntheses  greatly 
resembling  the  panentheism  of  Krause. 

In  the  chairs  of  the  University  of  France,  where  Condil- 
lac  reigned  suj^reme  until  the  Imperial  period,^  Cartesian 
spiritualism  again  came  into  vogue  about  the  year  1815, 
and  found  brilliant  interpreters  in  Royer-Collard,^ 
Maine  de  Biran,'^  Victor  Cousin,^  Theodore  Joue- 

1  1805-1872.  Professor  at  the  Sorbonne.  Logique,  Paris,  1856 ; 
La  morale  et  la  loi  de  I'hhtoire,  1868,  etc. 

2  1797-1855.  Nuovo  saggio  sulV  origine  delle  idee,  Rome,  1830  [tr. 
into  English,  1883-84],  and  Turin,  1855;  Principle  della  scienza  morale, 
Milan,  1831-37;  Rome,  1868;  Teosojia,  vols.  I.  to  V.  of  Rosmini's 
posthumous  works,  Tm'in,  1859-7-1. 

3  1801-1852.  Inlroduzione  alio  studio  della  Jilosojia,  Brussels,  1840  ; 
Filosofia  della  revelazione,  Turin,  1856 ;  Protologia,  Turin,  1857 ;  etc. 
On  Rosmini  and  Gioberti  see  Ad.  Franck,  La  philosophie  italienne, 
Journal  des  Savants,  1871  and  1872. 

*  [Born  1821.]  Die  Phantasie  als  Grundprincip  des  Weltprocesses, 
Munich,  1877. 

^  The  chief  representatives  of  his  philosophy  during  this  epoch 
are :  Cabanis  (§  60)  ;  Voluey  (1757-1820),  CEucres  completes,  2d  ed., 
Paris,  1836  ;  Destutt  de  Tracy  (1754-1836),  iSle'ments  d'ide'ologie,  Paris, 
1801-15,  Commentaire  sur  l' Esprit  des  lois  de  Montesquieu,  Paris,  1819 ; 
Laromiguiere,  Lemons  de  philosophie  ou  essai  sur  les  facultes  de  I'dme, 
Paris,  1815-18.  The  latter  anticipates  the  spiritualistic  reaction,  by 
introducing  into  traditional  psychology  the  principle  of  attention  and 
spontaneity,  thereby  agreeing  with  Maine  de  Biran. 

6  1763-1845. 

'  CEuvres,  published  by  V.  Cousin,  4  vols.,  1840,  and  completed  by 
Naville  and  Debrit,  3  vols.,  1859.  He  is,  unquestionably,  the  most 
profound  among  the  leaders  of  the  French-Scotch  school.  He  is  a 
representative  of  voluntarism  and  concrete  spii'itualism,  and  opposed 


8  1792-1867.  Councillor  of  State,  Member  of  the  Royal  Council 
of  Public  Instruction,  Professor  at  the  Sorbonne,  Member  of  the  In- 
stitute, Director  of  the  Normal  School,  Peer  of  France,  and  in  addi- 


CONCLUSION  591 

FROY.^  The  spiritualistic  school,  which  draws  its  inspira- 
tion from  Descartes,  Leihniz,  and,  especiall}-,  from  Reid, 
bases  philosophy  on  psychology,  and  psychology  on  inner 
observation.     Besides  having  enriched  the  history  of  phi- 

to  the  rationalistic  and  dualistic  pliilosopliy  of  V.  Cousin.  As  adher- 
ents of  M.  de  Biran  we  mention  Felix  Ravaisson  (Essai  sur  la  Meta- 
physique  d'Aristote,  2  vols.,  Paris,  1837  and  1846;  Rapport  sur  la  phi- 
losophie  fran(:aise  au  dix-neuvieme  siecle,  Paris,  18G8  and  18S."))  and  his 
disciples,  Jules  Lachelier  {Du  fondement  de  Vinduclion,  coiirs  ine'dits  de 
psycliulogie,  logiqiie,  morale,  Iheodice'e,  pro/esses  d  VEcole  normale  supe- 
j-ieure)  and  Emile  Boutroux  (Z)e  la  conlingence  des  lois  de  la  nature, 
Paris,  1874).  Ravaisson,  Lachelier,  and  Boutroux  oppose  to  the 
"  denii-spiritualisui  of  the  eclectic  school "  the  "  true  spiritualism, 
that  which  regards  even  matter  as  immaterial,  and  explains  nature 
itself  by  mind  "  (Ravaisson's  Rapport,  etc.,  p.  142). 

1  1790-1842.  Melanges,  1833;  1842;  Cours  de  droit  naturel,  1835; 
etc.  Jouffroy,  one  of  the  most  attractive  representatives  of  the 
school,  was  especially  influenced  by  Reid,  whose  works  he  translated. 
Among  his  disciples  and  successors,  we  must  mention,  in  the  first 
rank,  the  present  leader  of  French  spiritualism,  Paul  Janet  {Le  mate- 
rialisme  contemporain  en  Allemagne,  1864;  [Kngl.  tr.,  German  Materi- 
alism, etc.,  by  G.  Masson,  London,  1866];  La  arise  philosophiijue,  1865; 
Le  cerveau  el  la  pensde,  1807;  Elements  de  morale,  1869;  [Engl.  tr. 
by  Corson,  1884];  Histoire  de  la  science  politique  dans  ses  rapports  avec 
la  morale,  3d  ed.,  1887;  [La  morale,  1874;  Engl.  tr.  by  Mary  Cliap- 
man,  London,  1883];  Les  causes  finales,  2d  ed.,  1882 ;  [Engl.  tr.  by 
Affleck,  London,  1883] ;  etc.  [On  tliis  entire  school  see  A.  Franck, 
Moralistes  et  philosophes,  1872;  2d  od.,  1871.] 


tion  to  all  this  "  mode'rateur  tmit-pmssant  de  Venseignement  philosopfiique" 
in  the  University,  under  the  reign  of  Louis-Philippe.  Cours  de  I'/iis- 
loire  de  la  philosophie  modeme,  first  series  (1815-20);  second  series 
(1828-30);  Fragments  pliilosojdiiques,  1820;  5th  ed.,  1806  (5  vols.); 
etc. — V,  Cousin,  wlio  was  a  zealous  adliercnt  of  (Jerniau  pliilosopliy 
during  his  earlier  p<-riod,  did  not  really  teach  a  tliorougli-goiiig  spirit- 
ualism until  he  reached  his  official  stage.  See  on  Cousin  a  li'Mglliy 
article  in  the  second  edition  of  tlu^  Dictionuaire  des  scirnres  jdii- 
losophiques,  and  on  his  relation  to  (lenuan  philosophy  and  especially 
to  Hegel,  a  series  of  articles  by  Janet  in  the  /if  cue  des  Drnx-Mondes. 


f 

592  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

losophy  with  a  great  number  of  magnificent  works,^  it  has 
the  merit  of  liaving  explained,  in  the  acute  analyses  of  Maine 
de  Biran,  the  important  role  played  by  the  will,  a  fact  which 
the  sensationalistic  school  fails  to  recognize.  But  while 
German  spiritualism  makes  the  serious  mistake  of  assign- 
ing to  the  imagination  too  exalted  a  place  in  its  specula- 
tions, and  even  shows  a  willingness  to  compromise  with 
American  spiritism,  eclecticism,  —  the  name  given  to 
French  spiritualism  by  V.  Cousin,  —  errs  in  sacrificing  too 
much  to  rhetoric,  and  in  not  sufficiently  taking  into  account 
the  two  factors  which  philosophy  cannot  neglect  with  im- 
punity :  positive  science  and  its  monistic  principle.^ 

Some  of  its  contemporaneous  representatives,  particu- 
larly the  ablest  among  them,  frankly  acknowledge  the 
justice  of  these  criticisms.  The  pronounced  advance  of 
positivistic  and  materialistic  philosophy  is  due  to  its  close 
alliance  with  the  physical  and  natural  sciences.  In  order 
to  combat  it  we  must  recognize  the  elements  of  truth  it 
contains ;  we  must  assimilate  it,  absorb  it,  as  Hegel  would 
say,  in  order  to  overcome  it.  Now,  positivism  is  unques- 
tionably in  the  right  when  it  declares  the  age  of  "  romance- 
metaphysics,"  a-priorism,  and  fancy  to  be  at  an  end.  By 
subjecting  philosophy  to  the  methods  of  science,  positivism 
deprives  it  of  a  prerogative  which  has  no  raison  d'etre  in  the 
present  state  of  human  development.     Only  on  condition 

^  To  the  names  already  mentioned  we  may  add  those  of  Francisque 
Bouillier,  Haure'au,  Matter,  Willm,  Remusat,  Damiron,  Saisset,  Bar- 
tholmess,  Jules  Simon,  Nourrisson,  Bartlielemy-Saint-Hilaire,  Ad. 
Franck,  Ch.  Waddington,  Caro,  Alaux,  Ferraz,  etc.  For  Vacherot, 
whose  idealism  differs  essentially  from  the  eclectic  doctrines,  see  p. 
533,  note  1. 

2  Eclecticism  was  opposed  from  different  and  even  opposite  points 
of  view,  by  Bordas-Demoulin  {Leitre  sur  V eclecticisme  et  le  doctrinarisme, 
Paris,  1834),  Pierre  Leroux  {Refutation  de  V eclecticisme,  1839),  Taine 
{Les  pMlosophes  class ifjues  fr/mcais  du  XIX.  siecle,  1857;  3d  ed.,  1868), 
Secretan  (La  philosophie  de  V.  Cousin,  1868),  etc. 


CONCLUSION  593 

that  it  proceed  scientifically  can  pliilosopliy,  temporarily 
separated  from  the  sciences,  regain  its  former  high  rank 
among  the  branches  of  human  knowledge. 

In  our  opinion,  positivism  errs  in  that  it  makes  science 
purely  utilitarian,  or  discrowns  it,  so  to  speak,  by  denying 
to  the  human  mind  all  knowledge  of  objects  and  the  essence 
of  things,  all  metaphysical  capacity.  It  is  true,  philosophy 
must  identify  itself  with  science  in  its  methods  and  final 
goal.  But  take  note  that  every  science,  worthy  of  the 
name,  is  the  search  for  a  system  of  laws,  principles,  or 
causes,  i.  e.,  a  search  for  the  universal,  sometliing  supe- 
rior to  the  phenomenon,  a  suprasensible  reality,  in  a  word, 
a  /xera<f)V(nK6v.  Hence,  every  serious  science  is  a  partial 
metaphysic,  and  philosophy  is  really  a  general  metaphysic, 
a  metaphysic  of  the  universe.  It  is  furthermore  true  that 
knowledge  is  relative,  and  that  the  thiny-in-itself  (the 
term  introduced  by  criticism)  is  never  known  ;  but  this  re- 
lation is  evidently  determined  hy  the  nature  of  the  thing 
hiown  as  well  as  by  our  intellectual  organization.  And 
finally,  experience,  joined  with  speculation,  is,  without 
doubt,  the  indispensable  basis  of  all  positive  knowledge. 
But  experience,  the  reasoned  study  of  facts,  outer  and  inner 
observation,  gives  us,  if  not  an  absolutely  clear  view,  at 
least  a  glimpse,  of  the  essence  of  things  ;  that  is,  it  arrives 
gradually,  and  not  at  once,  at  metapliysical  conclusions  which 
justify  or  refute  the  intuitions  of  speculative  philosophy. 

Ignoring  this  threefold  truth,  itositivism  is  absolutely 
sceptical  of  all  hvpotheses  concerning  the  first  and  final 
causes  of  the  world.  It  confuses  two  entirely  dilTerent 
things:  dualism,  a  passing  form  of  Iniiiiaii  tliouglit.  and 
metaphysics,  its  permanent  and  legitimate  go;d.  It  tails  to 
see  that  its  protest  against  metai)hysics  at  the  same  time 
attacks  tlie  very  sciences  wliich  it  pretends  to  substitute  for 
metsipliysics.  If  this  protest  were  just,  then  ].liysics,  cliem- 
istry,  the  natural  iuid  moral  seiences,  wouM  all  have  to  give 

38 


594  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

up  formulating  universal  theories ;  for  every  scientific 
tlieory  is  a  relatively  a  priori  hypothesis,  so  long  as  new 
facts  may  be  adduced  to  contradict  it,  and  as  this  possibility 
always  exists,  the  most  firmly  established  scientific  theory 
cannot  lay  claim  to  the  dignity  of  an  axiom.  After  a  the- 
ory has  been  confirmed  by  a  great  mass  of  facts,  it  acquires 
a  certain  stability  and  a  relative  certitude  which  is  prac- 
tically equivalent  to  absolute  certitude.  Positivism  over- 
looks the  fact  that  the  same  holds  true  of  philosophy ;  it 
forgets  that,  though  absolute  certainty  concerning  the  first 
causes  of  the  universe  is  impossible,  we  can  at  least  attain 
to  a  degree  of  relative  certainty,  or  probability,  which  is, 
practically,  equal  to  absolute  certainty. 

One  phase  of  the  history  of  metaphysics,  the  a-prioristic, 
intuitive,  poetic  period,  is  gone,  —  gone  never  to  return, 
but  metaphysics  itself  still  remains,  and  its  interests,  as  we 
have  just  seen,  coincide  with  those  of  science. 

To  the  argument  of  positivism  that  metaphj^sics  is  in  a 
state  of  endless  change,  we  oppose  the  entire  history  just 
outlined  by  us.  If  anything  has  changed  and  continually 
changes,  it  is  the  hypotheses  of  physics,  chemistry,  and 
phj^siology ;  and  if  anything  has  remained  in  agreement 
with  itself,  for  more  than  two  thousand  years,  it  is  meta- 
physics. The  great  h}^otheses  of  the  unity,  continuity, 
and  immortality  of  being,  existed  prior  to  Plato  and  Aris- 
totle, and  constitute  tlie  immutable  substance,  as  it  were, 
of  ancient  and  modern  speculation. 

To  the  argument  drawn  from  the  perpetual  disagreement 
of  philosophers,  we  answer  that  the  historian  of  metaphysics 
is  most  impressed  with  the  open  or  tacit  agreement  ex- 
isting- between  rival  movements  and  schools.  We  have 
discovered  such  agreement  between  Plato  and  Democritus, 
Descartes  and  Bacon,  Leibniz  and  Schopenhauer,  Herbart 
and  Hesrel.  We  have  seen  how  the  idealist  Plato  assumes 
the  eternity  of  the  fjit}  ov,  and  the  materialist  Democritus 


CONCLUSION  695 

proclaims  the  principle  that  everytliin<jj  in  nature  has  its 
reason  for  existing ;  we  have  observed  that  the  intellec- 
tualist  Descartes  agrees  with  the  head  of  the  empirical 
school  in  protesting  against  the  application  of  teleology  to 
physics ;  we  have  shown  that  the  atomist  Herbart  assumes 
a  tii-st  cause,  and  that  Hegel,  his  antipode,  considers  the 
atom  as  a  necessary  form  of  being ;  that  Leibniz,  the  opti- 
mist, and  Schopenhauer,  the  pessimist,  both  teach  that 
"effort"  is  the  essence  of  things. 

This  agreement  would  be  even  more  complete,  were  it 
not  for  the  subjective  elements  wliich  play  an  essential  part 
in  tlie  formation  of  systems.  Take  away  from  each  that 
wliich  is  the  result  of  the  circumstances  under  which  it 
was  produced,  the  self-love  of  the  philosoplier,  his  desire  to 
be  original,  all  the  particular,  accidental,  and  fortuitous 
elements  due  to  his  nationality  and  individual  character; 
take  away,  above  all,  the  numberless  misconceptions  occa- 
sioned by  the  imperfections  of  philosophical  language, — 
and  you  will  find,  at  the  l^ottom  of  all  these  theories,  one 
and  the  same  fundamental  theme,  one  and  the  same  phi- 
losophy, one  and  the  same  system,  to  the  construction  of 
which  each  pliilosopher  adds  his  share.  Even  wliere  the 
dLsagreement  between  the  thiidvcrs  is  real,  it  is  not  abso- 
lute. Among  the  ancients  as  well  as  among  the  moderns, 
the  following  are  the  essential  (piestions  at  stake:  Has  tlie 
universe  one  or  many  causes,  a  conscious  or  an  unconscious 
cause?  What  is  the  origin  of  oui-  knowledge,  and  the  true 
phih>sopliical  mctliod?  Is  metaphysics  jiossible?  On  these 
important,  ontological,  metliodological,  and  critical  (pics- 
tions,  philosophers  are  divided  into  monists  and  pliiialists, 
spiritualists  and  materialists,  idealists  or  rationalists  and 
sensationalists  or  empiricists,  dogmatists  and  sceptics.  How- 
ever, none  of  these  systems  lias  ever  l)een  so  raijiial  as  not 
to  take  into  account,  in  a  certain  measure,  the  contrary 
teaching. 


1^ 

596  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

To  begin  with ;  lias  there  ever  been  a  monistic  or  plu- 
ralistic system  in  the  absolute  sense  of  the  word  ?    We  can 
deny  it  without  fear  of  being  contradicted  by  history.    The 
most   characteristic   monistic   systems    are,    in   antiquity: 
Eleatism  and  Neo-Platonism  ;  in  modern  times  :  Spinozism 
and  the  philosophies  of  Fichte  and  Hegel.    Well,  we  have 
seen  how  Parmenides  was  obliged  to  concede,  at  the  very 
least,  an  apparent  plurality  of  individual  beings ;  we  have 
seen  how  Empedocles  divided  his  "  Great  Being,"  on  the 
one  hand,  into  two  co-eternal  rival  principles:    love  and 
hate ;  on  the  other,  into  four  irreducible  elements ;  we  have 
seen  that  Platonism  recognizes,  by  the  side  of  the  Idea,  a 
fir]  6v  co-eternal  with  the  plastic  principle ;  we  have  seen 
that  Spinoza  discovers  in  his   "one  and  indivisible  sub- 
stance "  two  "  attributes,"  i.  e.,  two  things  that  cannot  be 
reduced  into  terms  of  each  other :  extension  and  thought. 
Finally,  the  most  radical  among  modern  monists,  Fichte  and 
Hegel,  begin  by  proclaiming,  —  the  former,  the  identity  of 
the  ego  and  the  non-ego ;  the  latter,   the  absoluteness  of 
reason,   and  subsequently  confess,  reluctantly,  no  doubt, 
(1)  that  the  non-ego  remains  for  reason  an  insurmountable 
obstacle;    (2)  that  there  is,  in  nature,   alongside  of  the 
rational  element,  an  illogical,  contingent  element,   which 
presupposes  a  principle  different  from  reason.    Hence,  even 
the  most  decided  monists  advance  a  relative  dualism. 

Conversely,  we  have  ascertained  that  the  most  charac- 
teristic pluralistic  systems  acknowledge  the  relative  truth 
of  monism.  Democritus  affirms  the  qualitative  identity  of 
atoms,  and  his  pluralism  is  merely  a  plural  monism.  Leib- 
niz connects  his  "  windowless  "  monads  by  means  of  "  pre- 
established  harmony,"  which,  in  his  system,  represents  the 
monistic  principle,  and  his  philosophy  too  is,  vdtimately, 
nothing  but  a  plural  monism,  since  all  of  his  monads  have 
the  same  essence :  perception  and  striving.  By  insisting 
on  the  unity  of   substance  in  the  universe,  on  the  unity 


CONCLUSION  597 

of  forces,  on  the  unity  of  la^^•s,  does  not  contemporaneous 
atomism  clearly  betray  its  monistic  or  unitary  preposses- 
sions? Hence,  the  most  rigorous  x)luralists  advance  a 
relative  monism. 

Between  materialism,  which  recognizes  no  invisible  real- 
ities except  atoms  and  inlinite  space,  and  spiritualism, 
wliich  adds  to  the  universe  a  transcendent  order  of  things, 
we  have :  Ionian  hylozoism,  which  regards  the  cosmic  sub- 
stiince  itself  as  intelligence,  wisdom,  reason,  and  harmony ; 
Peripateticism,  which  affii'ms  both  the  transcendency  and 
the  immanency  of  the  absolute ;  Stoicism  and  its  divine 
world-soul ;  and  modern  Pantheism,  which  distinguishes 
between  thought  and  apperception,  and  conceives  God 
either  as  will  (panthelism),  or  as  impersonal  reason  (panlo- 
gism),  which  manifests  itself  in  the  world  and  becomes 
conscious  of  itself  in  the  human  personality.  And  take 
note  of  this  fact !  With  a  few  rare  exceptions,  the  leaders 
of  European  })hilo8ophy  are  not  to  be  found  among  the 
pure  materialists,  or  in  the  camp  of  the  spiritualists ;  we 
must  look  for  them  between  the  two  camps. 

We  have  seen,  in  the  controversy  concerning  the  origin 
of  ideas,  that  Leibniz,  the  defender  of  the  theory  of  innate- 
ness,  and  Locke,  the  champion  of  sensationalism,  are  much 
more  closely  related  than  they  tliemselves  suspect ;  neither 
assuming  anything  to  be  innate  but  the  faculty  of  formiiuj 
ideas ;  we  have  seen  liow  Kant  sides  with  both  of  them, 
by  showing  that  the  matter  of  all  our  perceptions  is  fur- 
nished l)y  the  senses,  and  that  the  form  of  «//,  witliout 
exception,  is  tlie  product  of  the  sensible  subject,  the  effect 
of  tlie  particular  constitution  of  llie  mind:  a  syntliesia 
whicli  physiology  and  psychology  ten<l  more  and  more  to 
conlirm.^ 

When  we  consider  the  question  of  nittliod,  wliich  is  in- 
timately connected  with  the  preceding,  we  lind  the  same 
'  See  especially  Ileliiilioltz,  Phijsiolo(jische  Optik,  p.  loO. 


598  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

tacit  (and  most  frequently  unconscious)  agreement  between 
the  rival  views.  Aristotle,  Descartes,  and  Leibniz  are  sci- 
entists of  the  highest  order ;  Bacon,  Locke,  and  Hume  are 
eminent  reasoners.  No  intellectualist,  not  even  excepting 
Fichte  liiMiself,  has  ever  seriously  denied  that  an  empirical 
datum  is,  actually,  the  starting-point  of  a  2Jriori  specula- 
tion ;  no  empiricist  has  ever,  actually^  repudiated  deductive 
reasoning. 

And  it  is  important  to  note,  in  conclusion,  that,  since 
the  overtlu'ow  of  Hegelianism,  competent  thinkers  are 
becoming  more  and  more  agreed  as  to  method.  This  ques- 
tion will  no  longer  interest  the  future.  Philosophy  is 
subject  to  the  common  law.  Henceforth  its  methods  are 
those  of  science :  speculative  observation,  deduction  based 
on  facts,  and  induction.  The  distinction  wliich  Hegel 
draws  between  the  philosophical  and  the  non-philosophical 
sciences,  is  no  longer  recognized  in  our  times.  Every  sci- 
ence is  necessarily  philosopliical,  every  philosophy,  worthy 
of  the  name,  necessarily  scientific.  We  fully  understand  at 
present,  that,  as  Bacon  excellently  expresses  it,  the  im- 
portant thing  is  not  so  much  to  know  the  abstract  opinions 
of  men,  as  the  nature  of  things.  Under  the  influence  of 
this  view,  the  mania  for  original  systems  will  gradually 
disappear.  Progress  in  philosophy  consists  less  in  the  pro- 
duction of  new  hypotheses  than  in  the  empirical  demonstra- 
tion of  the  true  hypotheses  wliich  European  metaphysics 
has  bequeathed  to  us,  and  in  the  refutation,  likewise  em- 
pirical, of  its  errors.  The  personalities  of  the  pliilosophers, 
their  great  and  little  ^ambitions,  their  individual  hkes  and 
dislikes,  all  of  which  played  an  ail-too  important  part  in  the 
history  of  pliilosophy,  especially  during  the  first  half  of  the 
nineteenth  century,  will  gradually  lose  in  influence,  and 
theories  will  ultimately  depend  on  the  facts  and  on  the 
facts  alone.  Henceforth  philosophy  will  be  what  Bacon, 
Descartes,  Locke,  and  Kant  desired  it  to  be :  a  science,  — 


CONCLUSION  599 

the  highest  science.  Comtian  positivism  has  the  merit  of 
having  contribnted  liberally  to  these  results. 

Though  more  violent  and  radical  in  appearance,  the  op- 
position between  the  dogmatists  and  sceptics  is  by  no  means 
an  absolute  one.  All  the  systems  of  Greece  reveal  a  more 
or  less  pronounced  tinge  of  scepticism,  Avliile  Hellenic 
scepticism  culminates  in  a  form  of  probabilism  ^^•llieh 
amounts  to  relative  dogmatism.  In  modern  times  we  see 
how  the  type  of  metaphysical  dogmatism,  the  system  of 
Leibniz,  ends  with  a  question-mark :  Since  the  monad  has 
no  "  windows/'  how  can  it  know  that  which  is  not  itself  ? 
And  on  the  other  hand,  the  fearless  destroyer  of  traditional 
metaphysics,  Immanuel  Kant,  had  no  sooner  completed  his 
work  of  destruction  than  he  wrote  his  Prolegomena  to  evert/ 
Future  Metaphysics^  his  Mctajjhysics  of  Nature^  and  his  Meta- 
phi/sics  of  Morals.  Positivism  itself,  though  asserting  that 
metaphysics  is  a  chimera,  is  tlie  intimate  all}'  of  material- 
ism, i.  e.,  a  system  of  metaphysics,  and  thus  involuntarily 
furnishes  the  proof  ad  homiucm  of  the  legitimacy,  nay  of 
the  inevitable  necessity,  of  an  ontology,  the  final  goal  and 
highest  reward  of  the  labors  of  the  scientist. 

Does  that  mean  that  materialism  is  the  culmination  of 
European  philosophy  and  human  knowledge  ?  It  is  true, 
this  system  is  supported  b\-  facts  when  it  claims  that  an 
intimate  relation  exists  between  inner  perception  and  the 
regular  functions  of  the  brain  ;  it  lias  for  it  the  autliority 
of  reason  when  it  proclaims  the  essential  unity  of  things 
and  the  principle  of  universal  causality,  tliat  is,  in  a  word, 
monism ;  but  it  is  like  idealism,  its  opposite.  It  has  tlie 
appearance  of  a  universal  synthesis,  but  explains  only  one- 
half  of  tliat  which  it  pretends  to  explain.  We  have  seen 
wliat  insurmountabli!  obstacles  confront  all  idealistic  think- 
ers in  llicir  attempts  to  ])ass  iVniii  tlic  ideal  to  tlie  iral. 
Plat<»  succeeded  in  the  acc(»nij»lishnient  of  this  task,  only 
by  sacrificing  absolute  idealism,  and  inleipolating  the  liy- 


600  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

pothesis  of  a  non-leing,  co-eternal  with  the  idea.  Hegel 
solved  the  problem,  only  by  declaring  that  the  idea  includes 
being,  which  amounts  to  abandoning  idealism  properly 
so-called:  for  the  idea  wliich  involves  reality,  thought 
which  implies  force,  is  more  than  an  idea,  more  than  thought, 
and  the  name  idea^  given  to  the  principle  of  things  thus 
conceived,  is  inadequate  to  the  tiling  expressed.  Material- 
ism is  confronted  with  the  opposite  difficulty :  How  can 
we  derive  the  one  from  the  many,  the  indivisible  ego  from 
the  aggregation  of  atoms  called  the  brain?  Hence,  those 
among  its  adherents  who  are  true  philosophers  love  to 
call  themselves,  as  we  have  observed,  not  materialists,  but 
monists.  They  see  that  to  'produce  intelligence  means  to 
contain  it,  potentially  at  least ;  that  the  being  from  which 
the  idea  is  derived  is  not  the  three-dimensional  body,  matter 
in  the  real  sense  of  the  term,  but  the  higher  unitg  ivhence 
proceed  both  matter  and  thought. 

Now  tills  synthesis  of  Idea  and  Force,  whither  idealism 
and  speculative  materialism  are  tending,  is  not  a  mere  pos- 
tulate of  reason,  a  metaphysical  hypothesis,  — flatus  vocis, 
—  but  a,  fact,  nay,  the  most  immediate  fact  of  every  one's 
experience :  we  mean  the  Will.  Modern  science  has  re- 
duced matter  to  force,  and  Leibniz  very  aptly  said:  No 
substance  without  effort.  Now,  to  make  effort  means  to 
will.  If  effort  constitutes  the  essence  of  matter,  the  will 
must  be  the  basis,  the  substance,  and  tlie  generative  cause 
of  matter.  On  the  other  hand,  effort  is  also  the  source  of 
perception,  for  there  can  be  no  perception  without  atten- 
tion, and  no  attention  without  effort.  Perception  proceeds 
from  will,  and  not  vice  versa.'^  Hence,  the  loill  is,  in  the 
last  ancdysis,  the  higher  unity  of  Force  and  Idea,  the  common 
denominator,  and  the  only  one  to  winch  physics  and  morals 

1  W.  Wundt,  Physiologische  Psychologic :  Kein  Bewusstsein  ohne 
WUlenstMtigkeit.  Cf.  Theodor  Lipps,  Grundthatsachen  des  Seeletilebens, 
p.  601 :  Das  Streben  bildet  den  eigentlichen  Kern  des  Seelenlebens. 


CONCLUSION  601 

can  he  reduced:  it  is  being  in  its  fulness.  Everything  else 
is  merely  a  phenomenon.  Compared  to  the  cjfort  wliich 
produces  them,  realizes  them,  eoiLstitutes  them,  matter  and 
thought  are  nothing  but  accidents  :  both  exist  only  through 
the  act  Avhich  produces  them.  The  will  is  at  the  basis  of 
eveiy tiling  (Ravaisson  ^) ;  it  is  not  only  the  essence  of  the 
human  soul  (Duns  Scotus,  Maine  de  Biran,  Bartholmfess), 
the  primary  phenomenon  of  psychical  life  (AVundt),  but  the 
universal  phenomenon  (Schopenhauer),  the  basis  and  the 
substance  of  being  (Secrdtan  2),  the  only  absolute  principle 
(Schelling  ^).  On  this  princij)le,  as  Aristotle  says,  depend 
the  heavens  and  all  nature. 

]Materialism  cannot  explain  the  ego.  Bi-substantialistic 
spiritualism,  which  regards  thought  as  the  essence  of  mind, 
and  opposes  it  to  extension,  the  supposed  essence  of  matter, 
is  incapable  of  explaining  nature ;  "  extended  substance  " 
and  "  thinking  substance  "  are  realized  abstractions.  Con- 
crete spiritualism  alone,  which  considers  ivill  as  the  ground 
of  all  things  and  the  common  substance  of  the  •'  two  worlds," 
is  a  truly  universal  metaphysic,  combining,  to  use  the  words 
of  Leibniz,^  "  whatever  there  is  of  good  in  the  hypotheses  of 
Epicurus  and  of  Plato,  of  the  greatest  materialists  and  the 
greatest  idealists."  Hence  in  tliis  respect  as  well  as  in 
many  othei-s,  we  observe  a  signilicant  agreement  between  the 
present  leaders  of  speculative  and  positive  metaphysics; 
and  this  agreement  —  consensus  dissentientium  —  is,  unques- 
tionably, the  most  characteristic  phenomenon  in  the  pliilo- 
sophic  movement  of  our  times. 

Moreovei-,  contemporaneous  voluntarism  diffei-s  essen- 
tially from  tlie  system  of  Schopenhauer.'^     According  to 

1  li'ij'porl  sur  In  phitosophte  frau^aise  au  dix-tieuvihne  sihcle. 

2  limine  pf,Uomphl,/ue,  VII.,  3,  p-  '^Oi.  *  Sec  p.  187  ff. 

*  litjtlii/iin  anx  rejli'j-ioiui  de  Baijle. 

*  For  lh<^  (lifTficnw  betwceii  pessimistic  voliiiitiirism  and  mr/tor. 
iflic  voluntarism,  him;  my  tieatihcs:   Wille  zum  Libtn  udtr  W'iilt  zum 


602  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

this  philosopher,  the  will  strives  for  being  and  nothing  but 
being.  Now  nature,  or  to  speak  in  the  language  of  the 
new  metaphysics,  the  will,  strives  after  being,  undoubt- 
edly, but  it  does  so  in  order  to  realize,  tlu'ough  this  relative 
end,  an  absolute  end :  the  good.  If  it  had  no  other  end 
than  being,  it  would  find  complete  and  supreme  satisfac- 
tion in  life,  even  without  morality.  Now  experience 
superabundantly  proves  that  the  man  who  lives  simply  for 
the  sake  of  living  becomes  surfeited,  and  that  he  alone  is 
not  surfeited  with  life  who  lives  for  something  higher  than 
life.  Besides,  a  will  that  is  supposed  to  strive,  necessarily 
and  fatally,  for  being  and  nothing  but  being,  could  not 
turn  against  itself,  as  happens  in  suicide,  and  as  Schopen- 
hauer himself  ui-ges  it  to  do  in  liis  doctrine  of  the  nega- 
tion of  the  will,  although  otherwise  condemning  the 
avToxeipia.  Finally,  if  the  ground  of  things  were  the  will- 
to-live  at  any  cost,  we  should  be  utterly  unable  to  under- 
stand the  voluntary  death  of  a  Leonidas  or  a  Socrates,  and 
of  all  such  in  whom  there  is  sometliing  mightier  than  the 
will-to-live.  We  may,  it  is  true,  refuse  to  believe  in  the 
disinterestedness  of  these  sacrifices,  in  the  good  desired 
and  done  for  its  own  sake,  —  in  a  word,  in  duty.  But  we 
may  with  equal  right,  and  with  no  less  reason,  deny  the 
reality  of  the  world,  and  treat  existence  itself  as  an  illu- 
sion. We  must  confess,  there  is  no  other  proof  for  the 
existence  of  a  world  apart  from  ourselves  than  the  impera- 
tive of  the  senses,  the  self-evidence  with  which  reality 
forces  itself  upon  our  sensibility.  Now,  in  fact,  duty  is 
no  less  evident  than  the  imperative  of  the  senses.  The 
illusions  of  sense,  which  philosophy  detected  at  the  very 
beginning  of  its  history,  do  not  hinder  the  world  from 
being  a  reality,  quite  different,  it  is  true,  from  that  which 
the  senses  show  us,  but  still  a  reality ;  and  in  so  far  the 

Guien  f  Ein  Vorirag  uber  Eduard  von  Hartmann'' s  Philosopliie,  Stras- 
burg,  1882 ;   Ueher  die  Rolle  des  Willens  in  der  Relic/ion,  1888. 


CONCLUSION  603 

senses  are  veridical.  Similarly,  however  variable  and  fal- 
lible conscience  may  be  in  the  matter  of  its  prescriptions, 
their  very  form  compels  us  to  recognize  a  moral  order  as 
the  essence  and  soul  of  the  universe.  Whatever  part 
anthropomorphism  may  play  in  the  vocabulary  of  Kantian 
ethics,  we  must  agree  that  this  form  is  imperative,  that 
there  is  something  even  behind  our  will-to-live,  that  there 
is  above  our  individual  Mill  a  higher  and  more  excellent 
will,  wliich  strives  after  the  ideal  {Wdlc  zurii  Outcn).  This, 
and  not  the  Wille  zum  Leben  of  Schopenhauer,  is  the  true 
essence  and  the  first  cause  of  being,  suhstantia  sire  I)cus. 

Thus  freed  from  the  wholly  accidental  and  passing  alli- 
ance formed  with  pessimism  in  Schopenhauer's  system,  the 
monism  of  the  will  is  the  synthesis  towards  Avliieh  the 
tlu-ee  factors  which,  as  we  have  seen,  co-operate  in  the  de- 
velopment of  European  philosophy  (§  4)  are  tending.  These 
factors  are :  reason,  which  postulates  the  essential  unity  of 
things  (Parmenides,  Plotinus,  Spinoza),  experience,  which 
reveals  the  universality  of  struggle,  effort,  will  (Heraclitus, 
Leibniz,  Schelling),  and  conscience,  wliich  affirms  the  moral 
ideal,  the  ultimate  end  of  the  creative  effort  and  universal 
becoming  (Plato,  Kant,  Fichte). 

Nature  is  an  evolution,  of  wliiili  infinite  Perfection  is 
both  tlie  motive  force  and  the  highest  goal  (Aristotle,  Des- 
cartes, Hegel). 


I> 


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Engl.  tr.  by  S.  Coit ;  T.  Fowler,  Progressive  Morcdity,  London, 
1884,  2d  ed.,  1895 ;  Fowler  and  Wilson,  Principles  of  Morality, 
1886-1887,  2d  ed.,  1894;  A.  Dorner,  System  derckristlichen  Sitfen- 
lehre,  Berlin,  1885  ;  H.  Steinthal,  Allgemeine  Ethik,  Berlin,  1885  ; 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  G09 

P.  Rt'e,  Die  Enfstehimg  des  Gewissens,  Berlin,  1S85  ;  S.  S.  Laurie, 
Ethicn,  London,  I880 ;  N.  Porter,  EJenwiiti,  of  Moral  Science, 
New  York,  I880  ;  J.  Martineau,  Tijpes  oj  Ethical  Theory^  2  vols., 
London,  1885,  3d  ed.,  1891;  C.  Sigwart,  Vorfragen  der  Ethik, 
Freiburg,  188G;  W.  "Wundt  (p.  08G)  ;  F.  Tonnies,  Gemeinschaft 
und  Gesellschaft,  Leipsic,  1887 ;  H.  liolVding,  Ethik,  German 
trausl.  by  F.  Bendixen,  Leipsic,  1887;  F.  Nietzsche,  Zur  Gene- 
alogie  der  Morcd,  Berlin,  1887,  2d  ed.,  1887  ;  J.  G.  Schuriuan, 
The  Ethical  Import  of  Darwinism,  New  York,  1887  ;  G.  Rlimelin, 
Reden  und  Aiifsdtze,  Freiburg,  1888  ;  Martensen,  Die  christliche 
Ethik,  2  vols.,  Leipsic,  1872-78;  Engl,  trausl.  in  3  vols., 
1873-83  ;  A.  Doriug,  Philosophische  Gilterhhre,  Berlin,  1888 ; 
S.  Alexander,  Moral  Order  and  J'rogress,  London,  1889 ; 
F.  Paulsen,  iSystem  der  Ethik,  Berlin,  1889,  4tb  ed.,  1895; 
H.  Miinsterberg,  Der  Ursprung  der  Sittlichkeit,  Freiburg, 
i.  B.,  1889;  F.  Breutano,  Vom  Ursprung  sittUcher  Erkennt- 
niss,  Leipsic,  1889  ;  Tb.  Ziegler,  SittUches  Sein  mid  sittliches 
Werden,  Strasburg,  1890 ;  J.  S.  Mackenzie,  Introduction  to 
Social  Philosnphjf,  London,  1890;  A  3Iamial  of  Ethics,  New 
York,  2d  ed.,  1895;  J.  Dewey,  Outlines  of  a  Critical  Theory 
of  Ethics,  New  York,  1891  ;  II.  Gallwitz,  Das  Problem  der  Ethik 
in  der  Gegenwart,  Leipsic,  1891  ;  G.  Runzc,  Ethik,  vol.  I.,  Prak- 
tische  Ethik,  Berlin,  1891  ;  G.  Simmel,  Einleitung  in  die  Moral- 
wissenschaft,  2  vols.,  Berlin,  1892-93  ;  B.  P.  Bowne,  The  Prin- 
ciples of  Ethics,  New  York,  1892;  N.  Smytli,  Christian  Ethics, 
New  York,  1892;  C.  M.  Williams,  A  Review  of  the  Systems  of 
Ethics  founded  on  Evolution,  New  York  and  London,  1893; 
Til.  Elsenliaus,  Wesen  und  Entstehung  des  Gewissens,  Leipsic, 
1894;  D.  G.  Ritchie,  iVrt/Mra^  Rights,  New  York  and  London, 
1895;  J.  Sctli,  yl  Study  of  Ethical  Prinrijtles,  Edinbiiri:li  and 
London,  2d  ed.,  1890.  —  v.  Oettingoii,  Moral-Sfatisfik,  Itli  ed., 
Berlin,  1887;  Morselli.  Suicide  (Int.  Sc.  Series).  — \Y.  H  Lecky, 
A  History  of  European  Morals,  2  vols.,  London,  1859,  3d  ed., 
1877,  an<l  L.  Schmidt,  Die  Ethik  der  alten  Grie  h^n,  lierlin, 
1882,  are  liistories  of  customs.  —  On  the  histttry  of  ethi«'s  see  the 
works  of  Zicgh-r,  Kostlin,  Liithardt  (cited  in  noto  C,  p.  8),  G.-iss, 
Zifgler,  Luthardt  (p.  9,  nol«!  2)  ;  Vorliiinlcr.  Ma  kintosh,  .lodl 
(p.  12,  note   11),  Sidgwick  (p.    15.  nott;  9^  .lamt    (p.    I  I,  iwlc   7; 


010  BIBLIOGRAPHY 

p.  15,  note  9),  and  W.  Wliewell,  History  of  Moral  Science, 
Edinburffh,  18G3  ;  A.  Guyau,  La  morale  anylaise  cmitemporaine, 
Paris,  1879. 

Aesthetics  :  F.  Th.  Vischer,  Aesthetih,  3  vols.,  Leipsic,  1846-57  ; 
H.  Taine,  Philosophie  de  Vart,  Paris,  18G5  ;  Engl,  trans,  by  Du- 
rand,  2d  ed.,  1873;  H.  Siebeck,  Das  Wesen  der  aesthetischen 
Anschauung,  Berlin,  1875;  H.  Lotze,  Grundzilge  der  Aesihetik, 
Leipsic,  1884;  Engl.  tr.  by  G.  T.  Ladd,  Boston,  1884;  Guyau, 
Les  proUemes  de  Vestlietique  contemporaine,  Paris,  1884;  E.  v. 
Hartmann,  I.  Die  deiitsche  Aesthetik  seit  Kant,  Leipsic,  1886; 
II.  Die  Philosophie  des  Schonen,  1887  ;  H.  Stein,  Die  Entstehiing 
derneueren  Aesthetik,  Stuttgart,  1886;  H.  Cohen,  Kant' s  Begriin- 
dung  der  Aesthetik,  Berlin,  1889;  Monrad,  Aesthetik,  Christiania, 
1889  ;  K.  Kostlin,  Prolegomena  zur  Aesthetik,  Tubingen,  1889  ; 
Th.  lA^^^,  Aestlietische  Faktoren  der  Raumanschauung,  1891  ;  also 
Psychologic  der  Komik,  Philos.  Monatshefte,  1888-89;  W.  Knight, 
The  Philosophy  of  the  Beautifid,  2  vols.,  London,  1891-93  ;  K. 
Groos,  Einleitung  in  die  Aesthetik,  Heidelberg,  1892;  L.  Arrcat, 
Psychologie  du  peintre,  Paris,  1892;  B.  Bosanquet,  The  History  of 
Aesthetics,  London  and  New  York,  1892  ;  W.  R.  Marshall,  Pleas- 
ure, Pain,  and  Aesthetics,  London  and  New  York,  1894;  Hirth, 
Die  Physiologic  der  Kimst. 

Philosophy  of  Religion:  Scholten  (p.  15),  O.  Pfleiderer  (p.  12, 
note  11;  vol.   11. ,    Genetische  spekulative  Religionsphilosophie)  \ 

A.  Reville,  Prolegomenes  de  Vhistoire  des  religions,  Paris,  1880, 
4th  ed.,  1886;  English  transl.  Prolegomena  to  the  History  of  Re- 
ligion,  1884,  1885  ;  H.  Lotze,  Religionsphilosophie,  Leipsic,  1881 ; 
Engl.  tr.  by  G.  T.  Ladd,  Boston,  1884  ;  J.  Kaftan,  Das  Wesen 
de^christlichen  Religion,  Basel,  1881,  2d  ed.,  1888;  C.  P.  Tiele, 
Outlines  of  the  History  of  Religion,  London,  1884,  2d  ed.,  1888; 

B.  Plinjer,  Grimdriss  der  Religionsphilosophie,  Braunschweig, 
1886  (see  also  p.  12,  note  11);  W.  Bender,  Das  Wesen  der  Re- 
ligion, etc.,  Bonn,  1886;  Chantepie  de  la  Saussaye,  Lehrbuch  der 
ReUgionsgeschichte,  2  vols.,  Freiburg  i.  B.,  1887-89  ;  Engl.  tr.  by 
B.  Ferguson,  London,  1891 ;  L.  W.  Rauwenhoff,  Religionsphi^ 
losophie,  German  transl.  by  J.  R.  Hanne,  Braunschweig,  1889; 
K.  Kostlin,  Der  Ursprung  der  Religion,  1890;  J.  G.  Schurman, 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  611 

Belief  in  God,  New  York,  1890  ;  Agnosticism  and  Religion,  1896  ; 
E.  Caird,  The  Evolution  of  Religion,  2  vols.,  London  and  New- 
York,  1893 ;  and  Max  Muller's  Lectures  on  the  Origin  and  Growth 
of  Religion. 

Philosophy  of  History :  C.  Hermann,  Die  Fhilosophie  der 
Geschichte,  Leipsic,  1870;  Bernheim,  Geschichtsforschiing  und 
Geschichtsphilosophie,  1880  ;  W.  Dilthey,  Einleitung  in  die  Geistes- 
wissenschaften,  Leipsic,  1883  ;  A.  Dippe,  Das  Gesckichtsstudiian 
init  seinen  Zielen  und  Fragen,  1891  ;  G.  Simmel,  Die  Prohleme  der 
Geschichtsphilosophie,  Berlin,  1892;  Droysen,  Grundriss  der  His- 
torik,  Engl,  tr.,  I'he  Principles  of  History,  by  E.  B.  Andrews, 
Boston,  1893  ;  Flint  (p.  15,  note  9). 

Jurisprudence,  Politics,  Institutions,  etc.  :  Austin,  Lectures  on 
Jurisprudence  ;  Bluntschli,  Die  Lehre  vom  modernen  Staat,  3  vols. ; 
Engl,  tr.,  Theory  of  the  State;  Buckle  (p.  12,  note  11)  ;  Burgess, 
Political  Science ;  Coulanges,  La  cite  cmtique  ;  Denis,  Theories 
et  idees  morales  dans  Vantiquite  ;  Donisthorpe,  Individualism,  a 
System  of  Politics ;  Hearn,  Aryan  Household;  Holland,  Juris- 
prudence ;  Laveleye,  De  la  propriete  et  de  ses  formes  primitives  ; 
Lieber,  Manual  of  Political  Ethics;  Lioy,  Delia  flosofa  del 
diritto  (translated)  ;  Maine,  Early  History  of  Institutions  ;  Ancient 
Laic  and  Customs ;  Miller,  Philosophy  of  Law  ;  Mohl,  Encyclo- 
pedie  der  Staatswissenschaften  ;  Pollock,  Essays  in  Jurisprudence 
and  Ethics  ;  History  of  the  Science  of  Politics  ;  Puchta,  Outlines 
of  Jurisprudence  ;  Schiiffle,  Bau  und  Leben  des  sozialen  Kijrpers  ; 
Sidgwick,  Elements  of  Politics ;  Spencer,  The  Man  versus  the 
State ;  A  Plea  for  Liberty ;  Tarde,  Transformations  du  droit  ; 
Taylor,  The  Individual  and  the  State  ;  Westermarck,  The  Histoi-y 
of  Human  Marriage.  —  Tr.] 


INDEX 

[The  asterisk  indicates  the  important  places  in  which  authors  or  subjects 
are  treated;   n.  stands  for  note.] 


Abbot,  E.,  8  n.  6. 
Abbott,  T.  436  n.  2,  4,  6. 

Abbt,  433*  n.  2. 

Abelard,  9,  202,  222*  ff.,  228,  235. 

Academic  scepticism,  150  ff. 

Academy,  75. 

Adamson,  481  n.  1,  434  u.  2. 

Adickes,  434  n.  2,  435  n.  3. 

Aenesidemus,  153*  ff,  378   u.  1,   537; 
his  critique  of  causality,  156  f. 

Aeschylus,  19. 

Aesthetics,  bibliography  of,  610;    He- 
gel's, 524  ff. ;  Kant's,  468  ff. 

Affleck,  591  n.  I. 

Agrippa  of  Nettesheim,  266*. 

Agrippa  tlie  .Sceptic,  158. 

Ahrens,  587*  n.  4. 

Alanus  ab  insulis,  231*  235. 

Alaux,  15. 

All)ee,  390  n.  2,  391  n.  2. 

Albert  the  Great,  236,  240*  f.,  250  f. 

Alberti,  63  n.  1,  283  n.  3. 

Alciuous,  160. 

Akuin,  201*. 

Alexander  of  Aphrodisias,  166*  269. 

Alexander  the  Great,  105. 

Alexander  of  Hales,  239*. 

Alexander,  S.,  609. 

Alexandre,  263  n.  1. 

Alexandria,  160  ff. 

Alfaral)!,  216  n.  2. 

Algazel,  216  n.  2. 

Alkfiidi,  216  n.  2. 

Alley  tie,  4  n.  2. 

Alzog,  9  n.  2. 

Amalrir.  234  f. 

Ammonins  S,icr-;in,  166*. 

Analytic  judgments,  438  ff. 


'Avd/J-vna-ts,  Plato's  98. 

Anaxagoras,  5,  48*  ff.,  60,  95,  118,  412 
n.  1. 

Anaximander,  22*  f.,  45  n.  2,  412  u.  1. 

Anaximenes,  23. 

Ancona,  291  n.  2. 

Andrews,  611. 

Augelus  Politianus,  263  f. 

Animal  psychology,  bibliography  of, 
607. 

Auue'e  philosophique,  584  u.  1. 

Anniceris,  73*. 

Anselm,  6,  9,  202,  210*  ff.,  221,  235, 
362,  461  ;  his  conception  of  cause, 
214  f . ;  his  ontological  argument,  217 ; 
his  proof  for  the  existence  of  God, 
214. 

.Anthropology,  bibliography  of,  607. 

Antinomies,  Kant's,  456  ff. 

Antisthenes,  70,  73*  f.,  98. 

Apelt,  146  n.  I,  474  n.  1. 

ApoUonius  of  Perga,  161. 

Apuleius,  166. 

Arabians,  2.33,  236. 

Arabian  schools,  210  n.  3. 

Arcesilans,  104,  150  f. 

Archelans,  54  f. 

Archimedes,  160. 

Ariaiiism.  190. 

Aristarcbus,  160, 

Aristippus,  70,  71*  f.,  152,  378  n.  1. 

Arist<»j)hanos,  64. 

Aristotle,  5,  6,  20,  73,  82,  102,  104*  ff., 
234.  385,  588,  604  ;  his  astronomy, 
120  f.  ;  and  Catholicism.  123  f.  ;  ami 
the  Pburch,  237  ;  his  concept  of  im- 
iiiirtalitN',  128  ff.,  of  mnttor,  112  ff.. 
of  motion,  space,  and  time,  118  ff.. 


6U 


INDEX 


of  philosophy,  107  f.,  of  soul,  125  ff. ; 
his  critique  of  materialism,  110,  of 
Plato's  idealism,  lO'J  f. ;  his  ethics, 
131  ff. ;  his  gods,  122  f . ;  his  meta- 
physics, 108  ff . ;  his  meteorology,  1 24 ; 
his  philosophy  of  nature,  118  ff. ;  his 
politics,  132  f. ;  his  sensatioualism, 
130  f. ;  his  teleology,  124  ff. ;  his 
theology,  114  f . ;  and  scholasticism, 
222  ff.,  235  ff. 

Aristoxeuus,  133. 

Armstroug,  12  n.  11. 

Arnauld,  318*  322. 

Aruobius,  186. 

Arre'at,  610. 

Arriauus,  146  n.  1,  147. 

Arystillus,  161. 

Asse'zat,  412  n.  2. 

Ast,  76  u.  1,  n.  2. 

Athauasius,  187. 

Atheuagoras,  187. 

Atomism,  1  u.  1  ;  and  teleology,  95. 

Atomists,  Greek,  55  ff. 

Atticus,  139,  166. 

Auerbach,  323  n.  1. 

Augustine,  6,  9,  187,  188*  ff.,  215,  224, 
322,  493  n.  1  ;  his  determinism,  196 
ff. ;  his  doctrine  of  creation,  190  ff.  ; 
his  ethics,  196  ff. ;  his  p.?ychology, 
192  ff. ;  his  theology,  189  ff. 

Augustinianism,  322. 

Avempace,  210  n.  2. 

Avenarius,  586  n.  7. 

Averroes,  9,  210  n.  2. 

Avicebron,  210  n.  2. 

Avicenna,  210  n.  2. 

Baader,  278  n.  6,  488,  589*. 

Bach,  260,  n.  2. 

Bacon,  F.,  3,  11,  273,  295*  ff.,  304,  389, 

594. 
Bacon,  B.,  3,  9,  258*. 
Bahnsen,  557*  n.  1. 
Baumker,  9  n.  2,  93  n.  1. 
Bailey,  581*  n.  3. 
Baillet,  305  n.  1 . 
Bain,  104  n.  4,  581  n.  2,  581*  n.  3,  605, 

606,  608. 
Baiter,  76  n.  2. 


Baldachini,  291  n.  2. 

Baldwin,  535  n.  2,  607. 

Barach,  219  n.  2,  226  n.  3. 

Barbarus,  Ilermolaus,  263*. 

Barchou  de  Peuhoen,  12. 

Bardili,  473*. 

Barlaam,  262. 

Barratt,  608. 

Bartholmess,  12,  286  n.  2,  399  n.  1,  GOi 

Basil  the  Great,  187. 

Batteux,  133  n.  1. 

Baumann,  12  n.  11,  15  n.  9. 

Baumgarten,  369*  n.  1. 

Baur,  9  u.  2,  148  n.  1,  185  n.  1,  5.33*. 

Bautain,  589*. 

Bax,  436  n.  1,  n.  3,  544  n.  5. 

Bayle,  13  u.  1,  318*. 

Beattie,  431*. 

Beaugendre,  211  n.  3. 

Beck,  7  n.  4. 

Beck,  J.  S.,  577  n.  1. 

Beda  Venerabilis  201*. 

Bekker,  7  n.  5,  76  n.  2,  104  u.  4. 

Bekker,  B.,  318,  321*. 

Bembo,  264. 

Beuard,  76  u.  2,  487  n.  1. 

Bender,  8  u.  6,  610. 

Bendixen,  12  n.  11,  609. 

Beneke,  542*  n.  2. 

Benn,  8  n.  6. 

Bentham,  391*  n.  2. 

Berengar,  211*. 

Berger,  182  n.  1. 

Bergk,  8  n.  6,  24  n.  2,  44  n.  1. 

Bergmann,  15  n.  9,  605, 

Berkeley,  11,  303,  391*  ff.,  403,  430. 

Bernard,  C.  192  n.  1,  435  n.  3,  436  n  5 

585*. 
Bernays,  7  n.  1,  33  n.  1,  55  n.  2. 
Bernhard,  St.,  260*. 
Bernhard  of  Chartres,  226*. 
Bernhard  of  Clairvaux,  223. 
Bernhardi,  8  n.  8. 
Bernheim,  608. 
Bernheim,  611. 
Bertholdt,  G.,  405  n.  1. 
Bessarion,  263*,  267. 
Biedermann,  12  n.  11. 
Biel,  257. 


INDEX 


615 


Biese,  104  n.  4. 

Bilfinger,  369*  n.  1. 

Biudeiuaun,  188  n.  1. 

Biuet,  608. 

Blampigiion,  320  n.  2. 

Blass,  59  n.  1. 

Bliud,  M.,  562  n.  3. 

Bluutschli,  12  u.  11,  611. 

Boccaccio,  262. 

Boetliius,  199*  f. 

Buhine,  J.,  10,   199,    278*  ff.,  488,  589 

u.  3. 
Buhmer,  324  n.  2. 
Bois.>oiiade,  8  u.  2. 
Boliugbroke,  39*  n.  3. 
Bouaventura.  241*. 
Bouhufer,  140  u.  1. 
Bouifas,  344  u.  1. 
Bouitz,  78  u.  1,  104  n.  4,  108  n.  3. 
Bonnet,  291,  370  n.  2,  412  f.* 
Bordas-Demoulin,  592  n.  2. 
Borelius,  533*  n.  1. 
Bosanquet,  15  n.  9,  497  n.  6,  533*  n.  1, 

542  u.  2,  605,  610. 
Bossuet,  322  n.  1. 
Bostroni,  588*. 
Bouchitte,  587*  n.  4. 
Bouillet,  7  u.  2,  157  n.  1.  180  n.  1. 
Bouillier,  .305  n.  1,  -320  u.  2. 
Boureau-Deislandes,  13  n.  1. 
Bourne,  Fox,  370  u.  1. 
Bouterwek,  473*. 
Boutroux,  590*  n.  7. 
Bowen,  12  n.  11. 
Bower,  G.  S.,  406  n.  2. 
Bowne,  581  n.  3,  609. 
Bradley,  F.  11.,  533*  n.  1.  605,  608. 
Bradwardine,  359. 
Bralimanism,  571. 

Brand  is,  8  n  6,  104  n.  4. 

Breier,  48  n.  2. 

Brentano,  F.,  606,  609. 

Brewer.  258  n.  3. 

Briefer.  55  n.  3. 

Brocliard.  148  n.  2. 

Brown,  Th'.ma.s,  431*  n.  3. 

Brucker,  13. 

Bruder.  323  n.  1. 

Brunuliofer,  286  n.  2. 


Bruno,  6,  11,  199,  273,  264  n.  1,  286*  S., 

313,  345,347,  491  n.  2. 
Brunschvigg,  323  u.  1. 
Brutus,  147. 
Bryant,  497  n.  6. 
Biichner,  562*. 

Buckle,  12  n.  11,  581*  n.  3,  Gil. 
Buddlii.sm,  545,  571. 
Buddhism  and  Pythagoreanismj  3.G  n.  1. 
Bude,  305  n.  1. 
Buffon,  51. 
Buhle,  13,  25  u.  1. 
Bulliuger,  108  u.  3. 
Burchard,  58  n.  1. 
Burckhardt,  16  n.  1. 
Burdach,  495. 
Burgess,  611. 
Buridau,  256*. 
Burleigh,  "Walter,  256* 
Burnet,  6  n.  1,  8  n.  6. 
Burt,  12  u.  11. 
Busot,  399  n.  1. 
Butler,  391*  n.  2. 
Byk,  8  u.  6. 
Bywater,  33  n.  1. 

Cabalists,  164,  265  ff. 

Cabanis,  415*  f.,  590  n.  5. 

Caclicnx,  241  n.  2. 

Cae.salpinus,  272*  284. 

Caesar,  139.  [o73n.  2,  611. 

Caird,  E.,  434  n.  2,  496  n.  3,  533*  u.  1, 

Caird,  J.,  323  n.  1,  53.3*  n.  1. 

Calderwood,  608. 

Calvin,  276. 

Canierer,  323  n.  1. 

Canipanella,  11,  .56.  291*  ff. 

Cantoui,  4.34  n.  2. 

Cantor,  159  n.  1. 

Capes,  147  u.  4. 

Capesius,  .535  n.  2. 

Cardauus,  10.  267*. 

Carneados,  151*  f.,  430. 

Carneri,  008. 

Carpf-nter,  606. 

Carrii-re.  10  n.  1,  274  n.  6,  588*,  608. 

Cartesian  .sdiool,  318*  ff. 

Cams,  C.  G.,  495. 

CaruK,  F.  A.,  608. 


616 


INDEX 


Cams,  P.,  586*  n.  7. 
Caspari,  542  u.  2. 
Cassiodorus,  200*. 
Cassias,  139. 

Categories,  Kant's,  445  ff. 
Catholicism  and  Aristotle,  124  f. 
Cato,  147. 

Causality,  Hegel's  doctrine  of,  506  ff . ; 

Hume's  doctrine  of,  421    ff.  ;    Kant's 

doctrine  of,  445  ff . ;  Sceptics'  doctrine 

of,  156  f. 

Chaiguet,   8  n.  6,  37  n.  2,  63  n.  1,  76 

u.  2,  296  n.3. 
Clialybaeus,  12,  588*. 
Chapman,  M.  591  n.  1. 
Charcot,  608. 

Charles,  258  n.3,  411  u.  1. 
Charron,  274*. 
Chase,  104  n.  4. 
Chasles,  159  n.  1. 
Cheselden,  402  n.  1. 
Child  psychology,  bibliography  of,  607. 
Cliristianity,  69  ;  and  Greek  philosophy, 

165;  and  Stoicism,  147. 
Christian  Platonism,  185*  ff. 

Chrysippus,  141*,  147  n.  3. 

Chrysostom,  196. 

Chubb,  391*  n.  3. 

Cicero,  7,  147,  148  n.  1,  225. 

Clarke,  390*. 

Clauberg,  318*. 

Cleanthes,  140. 

Clement  of  Alexandria,  7,  9,  187. 

Clerselier,  316  n.  2,  317  n.  1,  318*. 

Cobet,  7  n.  6. 

Cohen,  437  n.  1,  462  n.  2,  468  n.  1,  584, 
610. 

Coignet,467  n.  1. 

Coit,  608. 

Coler,  323  n.  1. 

Colet,  199  n.  1. 

Collier,  398  n.  3. 

Collingwood,  562  n.  6. 

Collins,  A.,  391*  n.  3. 

Collins,  W.,  391  n.  2. 

Colombo,  Realdo,  284. 

Columbus,  282,  296. 

Combefisius,  199  n  2. 

Combes,  563*  n.  5. 


Comenius,  278*. 
Common,  557  n.  1. 
Common-sense  philosophy,  430*  ff. 
Comte,  11,  472  n.  1,  573*  ff.;  his  classi- 
fication of  sciences,  576  ff.  ;  his  con- 
ception of  theology,  ruetaphysics,  and 
science,  574  ff. 
Conceptualism,  222  ff. 
Condillac,  ll,399*ff.,  590. 
Condorcet,  414*. 
Congreve,  573  n.  2. 
Conn,  560  n.  1. 
Copernicus,  11,  160,  264  n.  1,  283*  390, 

399  n.  1. 
Corson,  591  n.  1. 
Cosmological  argument,  Kant's  critique 

of,  461. 
Cosmology,  Kant's  critique  of,  456  ff. 

Cotton,  273  n.  3. 

Coulanges,  611. 

Couplaud,  557  n.  1. 

Cournot,  574  n.  2. 

Cousin,  14,  25  n.  1,  76  n.  2,  182  n.  I. 
201  n.  3,  222  n.  1,  223,  226  n.  3. 
305  n.  1,  322  n.  1,  370  n.  1,  434  n.  2, 
533  n.  1,  590*   590  n.  7. 

Crantor,  104. 

Crates,  104,  140,  150. 

Cratylus,  75. 

Creighton,  586  n.  3. 

Creuzer,  167  n.  1. 

Criticism,  1  n.  1,  370  ff.,  434*  ff. 

Critique  philosophique,  584  n.  1. 

Crowell,  8  u.  6. 

Crusades,  262. 

Cudworth,  370*. 

Cumberland,  391  n.  2. 

Curtis,  370  n.  1. 

Cuvier,  564*  n.  2. 

Cynics,  73*  f.,  98. 

Cyrenaics,  71*  f. 

Daiixe,  163  n.  1. 

D'Ailly,  256*. 

D'Alembert,  414*. 

Dallas,  562  u.  6. 

Damascius,  184  n.  1. 

Damiron,  12  n.  11,  317  n.  2,  399  n.  1 

Dante,  262. 


INDEX 


617 


Darwin,  C,  11,  46,  404  u.  1,  560  u.  1, 

5G3*  ff.,  607. 
Darwiu,  F.,  563  u.  2. 
Darwinism,  560*  ff. 
David  of  Diuaiit,  234. 
Davidson,  104  u.  4. 
Davy,  563*  n.  5. 
Dean,  12  n.  11. 
De  Bonald,  579. 
Debrit,  590  n.  7. 
De  Garnio,  542  n.  2. 
Dege'rando,  13. 
Deism,  1  u.  1. 
Deists,  391. 
Delaiubre,  159  n.  1. 
Delame,  7  n.  8. 
Del  Rio,  587*  n.  4. 
De  ^laistre,  579. 
Demaze,  277  n.  3. 
Deinocritus,  53*  ff.,  66,  95  f.,   134,  297, 

406,  412  u.  1,  594  ff. 
Dendy,  605. 
Denifle,  9  n.  2. 
Denis,  187  n.  2,  611. 
Descartes,  6,  192  n.  2,  220  n.  I,  305*  ff., 

370  f.,  378  n.  1,  453,  456,  .')37,  591, 

594;   and   French  materialism,  411  ; 

and    Spinoza,   326   f. ;    his    physics, 

313   f. ;    his   scepticism,   308  f.;    his 

theory  of  interaction,  316  f. 
Dcsdouits,  434  n.  2. 
De.sjardins,  298  n.  2. 
Des  Maizeaux,  13  n.  1. 
Desnoiresterres,  399  n.  1. 
Dessoir,  12  n.  11,  608. 
Destutt  de  Tracy,  590*  n.  5. 
Detmold,  264  n.  2. 
Deussen,  15  n.  9,  557*  n.  1 
Deutiiiger,  9  u.  2. 
Devey,  298  n.  1. 
Dcwcy,  344  n.  1,  609. 
De  Witte,  474  n.  1. 
Dicaearchus,  133. 
Di.hTot,  291,  412*  ff.,  505. 
Dicl.S  G  n.  4,  8  n.  C. 
DietfTi(i,2I0  n.  2. 
Diirl.y,  296  n.  3. 
Dill  man,  344  ii.  I. 
Dilthey,  L'74  n  G,  611. 


Diogenes  of  ApoUonia,  53*  f. 

Diogenes  of  Laerte,  7. 

Diogenes  of  Sinope,  74*. 

Diouysius,  199*. 

Dippe,  611. 

Dixon,  240  u.  2. 

Dods,  188  n.  1. 

Dogmatism,  1  n.  1. 

Donaldson,  9  n.  2. 

Douisthorpe,  611. 

Doriiig,  609. 

Dorner,  188  n.  1,  005,  608. 

Douglas,  581  n.  2. 

Dourif,  147  n.  4. 

Draper,  12  u.  11,  159  n.  1. 

DreydorU,  322  n.  1. 

Drobiscl),  542*  n.  2,  605. 

Droysen,  611. 

Droz,  322  n.  1. 

Drummond,  9  u.  2,  163  n.  1. 

Dualism,  1  u.  1  ;  Descartes's,  305  ff. 

Du  Bois-Keymond,  407  u.  1,  563  n.  5, 

585*. 
Du  Boulay,  233  n,  1. 
Duff,  557  "n.  1. 
Diihring,  15,  563  n.  5,  583*  n.  1,  605, 

608. 
Dummler,  73  n.  4. 
Duncan,  344  n.  1. 
Duncker,  7  n.  9. 
Duns  Scotus,  9,  202,  246*  ff. ;    his  doc 

trine  of  freedom,  248. 
Dupuy,  563*  n.  5. 
Durand,  610. 

Durand  de  Laur,  148  n.  1. 
Dutens,  344  n.  1. 
Dynamism,  1  n.  1. 

Enr.iMiAUi),  473  n.  2. 
Kckhart,  199,  260*. 
Kckhoff,  435  n.  2. 
Eclecticism,  Greek,  162  ff. 
Ei.slcr,  210  n.  2. 
Eleatic  philosojihy,  24*  fl. 
Eleatics,  74,  80,  95,  .537. 
Eliot,  George,  502  n.  3. 
Ellis,  104  n.  4,  290  n.  3. 
KIscnhans,  G09. 
Elwes.  323  n.  1. 


618 


INDEX 


Emanation,  190  ff. 

Empedocles,  44*  ff.,  GO,  95,  41i  u.  1. 

Empiricism,  1  u.  1. 

Eugel,  433*  n.  2. 

Eugelhardt,  199  u.  1,  230  n.  2. 

Epictetus,  146  n.  1,  148  n.  1,  147, 

Epicurus,  73,  75,  134*  ff. ;  his  etliics, 
138  f. ;  his  metaphysics,  135  f . ;  his 
conception  of  philosophy,  135 ;  his 
conception  of  soul  and  immortality, 
137  f. ;  his  tlieology,  136  f. 

Epistemology,  bibliography  of,  G05  f. 

Eratosthenes,  161. 

Erdmann,  B.,  434  u.  2,  435  u.  3. 

Erdmann,  J.,  14,  344  n.  1,  .533*. 

Erenuius,  166*. 

Erigena,  Scotus,  9,  199,  201,  204*  ff., 
235. 

Espiuas,  607. 

Essence  and  Appearance,  Hegel's  doc- 
trine of,  504  ff. 

Ethics,  bibliograpliy  of,  608. 

Eucken,  12  n.  11,  15  u.  9,  106  n.  2. 

Euclid,  161. 

Euclides,  70,  74*  f.,  75. 

Eudffimonism,  75. 

Euhemerus,  72*. 

Eunapius,  8. 

Eusebius,  7. 

Everett,  481  n.  1. 

Evolution,  560  ff. 

Evolution  of  Man,  570  f. 

Exner,  542  n.  2. 

Experimental  psychology,  bibliography 
of,  607. 

Eyssenhardt,  199  n.  3. 

Fabre,  15. 
Fabricius,  7  n.  5. 
Falckenberg,  12  n.  11,  264  n.  1 
Faraday,  563*  n.  5. 
Farel,  276. 
Farrer,  391  n.  1. 
Fathers,  185*  ff. 
Faugere,  322  n.  1. 
Fechner,  G.,  588*  606. 
Fechner,  H.  A.,  278  n.  6. 
Fere',  608. 
Ferguson,  A.,  390*. 


Ferguson,  B.,  610. 

Ferrari,  295  u.  1. 

Ferraz,  188  n.  1. 

Ferri,  268  u.  3,  273  n.  1 . 

Ferrier,  8  n.  6. 

Feuerbach,  L.,  318  n.  2,  344  n.  1,  561*. 

Fichte,  J.  G.,  11,  74,  474,  481*   ff.,  495, 

544,  596  ;  his  relation  to  Hegel,  498  f. ; 

to  Schelling,  488  f. 
Fichte,  J.  H.,  4S1  n.  1,  588*. 
Ficinus,  Marsilius,  1G7    n.   1,  264*   f., 

269  n.  1. 
Fioreutino,  268  n.  3,  273  n.  1,  286  n.  2. 
Fischer,  E.  L.,  605. 
Fischer,  K.,  12,  201  u.  3,  296  n.  3,  474 

n.  2,  533*   544  u.  1,  605. 
Fiske,  581*  n.  3. 
Flint,  15  n.  9,  295  n.  1,  611. 
Florio,  273  n.  3. 
Floss,  205  11.  1. 
Fludd,  278*. 
Flugel,  542  n.  2. 
Fontenelle,  399*  n.  1. 
Forel,  608. 
Forster,  462  u.  2. 
Fortlage,  12  n.  11,  146  n.  1. 
Foucher  de  Careil,  305  u.  1,  344  n.  1, 

496  u.  3,  544  u.  1. 
Fouille'e,  15,  63  n.  1,  76  n.  2,  607. 
Fowler,  296  n.  3,  370  n.  1,  390  n.  2,  605 

608. 
Fracastor,  284*. 
Franck,  15,  268  n.  3,  590  n.  3. 
Fraser,  370  u.  1,  371  n.  1,  392  n.  5. 
Frau&nstadt,  544  n.  1,  557*  n.  1. 
Frederick  II.,  3G8  u.  1. 
Freethinkers,  390*. 
Freret,  63  u.  1. 

Freudeuthal,  25  n.  1,  296  n.  3. 
Fries,  A.  de,  370  n.  1. 
Fries,  J.  F.,  474*. 
Frisch,  283  n.  3. 
Frith,  286  n.  2. 
Froschammer,  590*. 
Fulbert,  222. 
FuUerton,  323  n.  1. 

Gaisford,  8  n.  3,  n.  5. 

Gale,  180  u.  7,  181  n.  1,  205  n.  I. 


INDEX 


619 


Galileo,  160,  283*,  306. 
Gallupi,  296  n.  1. 
Gallwitz,  609. 
Galton,  609. 
Garnier,  305  n.  1. 
Garve,  390  u.  5,  433  n.  2. 
Gass,  9  u.  2,  609. 
Gassemli,  274*  306,  318. 
Gaunilo,  217,  461. 
Gedike,  7  u.  2. 
Geel,  59  u.  1. 
Geiger,  10  n.  1,  588  u.  6. 
Gennadius,  263,  267. 
Geuoude,  320  n.  2. 
Georgius  of  Trebizoiid,  263,  267. 
Gerhert,  211. 
Gerhardt,  C.  J.,  344  u.  1. 
Gerhardt,  0.  185  u.  1. 
Gerkrath,  274  u.  2. 
Gerlaud,  607. 
Germain,  Sophie,  574  u.  2. 
Gersou,  261*. 
Gervaise,  199  n.  5. 
Geulincx,  318*  320  f. 
Gfrorer,  163  u.  1,  286  u.  2,  323  n.  I. 
Gilbert  de  la  Porree,  227*  235. 
Gildeineister,  473  u.  6. 
Giles,  201  n.  1,  227  u.  3. 
Gioberti,  295  u.  1,  590*. 
Gizycki,  G.,  390  n.  2,  391  n.  2,  608. 
Gizycki  P.,  134  u.  1. 
Glaser,  lOS  n.  3. 
Glogau,  305  n.  1. 
Gnostics,  164. 
Goerenz,  7  n.  2. 
Goethals,  251. 
Goethe,  76  n.  1. 
G(ittling,  74  11.  1. 
Goldt>achf-r,  166  u.  2. 
GoMfriedrich,  468  n.  I. 
Gon7,ale.s,  241  n.  2. 
(joodwiii,  166  n.  1. 
Gordy,  12  n.  8. 
GorgiiLS,  32. 
Grant,  104  n.  4. 
Gnitry,  590*. 

Greccf,  370  n.  1,  .533*  n.  1,  608. 
fircek  chiircli,  262    ff. :    CmU,    17   ff . ; 
philoMophy,  biiiliograjdiy  of,  fi  ff.  and 


note.s ;  pliilosophy,  jieriods  and  origin 
of,  4  n.  5.  17  ff. ;  religion,  17  ff. 

Green,  434  n.  2,  533  n.  1. 

Gregory  of  Xazianz,  187. 

Gregory  of  Nyssa,  187. 

Griesingor,  607. 

Grimblot,  487  n.  1. 

Grimm,  12  n.  11,  305  u.  1,  600. 

Grisebach,  544  n.  1. 

Groo.s,  610. 

Grote,  8  u.  6,  17  u.  1,  37  n.  2,  63  n.  1, 
76  n.  2,  104  u.  4,  133  a.  1, 

Grove,  563  u.  5. 

Gruber,  573  n.  2. 

Griin,  561  n.  1. 

Guliraucr,  344  n.  1. 

Guruey,  608. 

Giiyau,  133  u.  1,  608,  610. 

Gwinner,  544  n.  1. 

Haas,  148  u.  2. 

Ilaeckcl,  560  n.  1,  562*  564  n.  3,  567. 

llaeghen,  320  u.  1. 

Hagen,  274  u.  6. 

Ilaldane,  497  u.  8,  544  u.  3. 

llaller,  .506  n.  1. 

llamann,  J.  G.,  473*. 

Hamaiin,  O.,  560  n.  1. 

Hamilton,  \V.,  430  n.  3,  431*  n.  3,  4. 

Hammer-Purg.stall,  210  n.  2. 

Hanne,  610. 

Harms,  12  n.  1 1 ,  15  n.  9, 473  n.  5, 606,608. 

Harnack,  9  ii.  2,  167  n.  1,  185,  u.  1. 

Ilarjjf,  59  n.  1. 

Harris,  434  n.  2,  496  n.  3,  497  u.  2,  533* 

n.  1. 
Hart,  55  n.  3. 
Harten.stein,  15  n.  9,  344  n.  1,  434  n.  2, 

.535  n.  2,  5-J2*  n.  2. 
Hartley,  406*  f. 
Harttnann,  II,  91  n.  2,496  n.  l,542u.2, 

557*  ff.,  560  n.  1,  608,  610. 
Harvey,  272,  284*. 
Hasse,  211  n.  4. 

Hastio.  12  n.  11.  4.16  n.  fi,  407  o.  6. 
Hatch,  104  M   4.  390  ii.  2. 
Haun'au,  9  n.  2. 
Haiisratli,  222  n.  1,  562  n   3. 
Havet,  322  n.  I 


620 


INDEX 


Hayduck,  6  n.  4. 

Have,  586  n.  4. 

llaym,  487  n.  1,  496  n.  3,  544  n.  1. 

Ilazlitt,  273  u.  3. 

1 1  earn,  611. 

Heath,  296  n.  3. 

Hebenstreit,  181  n.  1- 

Hedoiiism,  Greek,  71*ff.,  134 ff. 

Heeren,  8  u.  3. 

Hegel,  11,  14,  52,  56,  79,  183  u.  1,  202 
n.  1,  203  11.  3,  249  n.  1,  264  u.  1,  285 
n.  1,  291,  496*  ff.,  537  f .,  594  ff . ;  his 
ethics,  514  ff. ;  aud  Fichte,  Kaut,  aud 
Schelliug,  498  ff.;  his  logic,  500  ff.; 
his  philosophy  of  art,  521  ff. ;  his 
philosophy  of  mind,  513  ff. ;  his  phi- 
losophy of  nature,  510  ff. ;  his  philoso- 
phy of  philosophy,  531  f.;  his  philo- 
sophy of  religion,  528  ff. ;  his  politics, 
533  ff. 

Hegelian  school,  533  ff. 

Hegesias,  72*  f. 

Heinichen,  7  n.  10. 

Heinze,  142  u.  1,  145  n.  1,  163  u.  1,  305 
n.  1. 

Heitz,  107  n.  1. 

Heliocentric  theory,  283,  287. 

Helinholtz,  563*  n.  5,  585*  f.,  597  u.  1. 

Hehnont,  278,  345  n.  1. 

Helvetius,  414*. 

Henderson,  434  n.  2. 

Heraclitus,  6  n.  1,  33*  ff.,  60,  75,  80, 
123,  335,  491  n.  4,  589  n.  4. 

Herbart,  11,  148  n.  1,  535*  ff.,  594  ff. 

Herbartians,  370*  n.  2. 

Herder,  370  n.  2,  473*  475. 

Hermann,  C,  611. 

Hermann,  K.  F.,  59  n.  1,  76  n.  2,  78  n.  1. 

Hertling,  370  n.  1. 

Hesiod,'  18  f. 

Heussler,  296  n.  3. 

Hibbeu,  605. 

Hicetas,  160. 

Higginson,  148  n.  1. 

Hilfiebert  of  Lavardin,  211*  225. 

Hillcbrand,  544  n.  2. 

Hipparclius,  161. 

Plippasiis,  37  n.  1,  46. 

Hippolytus,  7. 


Hirn,  563*  n.  5. 

Hirth,  610. 

Hirzel,  140  n.  1,  148  n.  1,  148  n.  2. 

History,  bibliography  of  philosophy  of, 

611. 
Hobbes,  11,  300*  ff.,  318,  359,  370  n.  2, 

378,  378  n.  1,  414. 
Hoffding,  12  n.  11,  606,  609. 
Hoffmann,  F.,  589  n.  3. 
Holbach,  11,  414*. 
Holland,  611. 
Home,  391*  u.  2. 
Homer,  18  f.,  117  n.  4, 
Horace,  71  n.  2,  139. 
Horn,  78  n.  1. 
Horwicz,  606. 
Hoschel,  8  n.  4. 
Hough,  12  n.  8. 
Iluber,  9  u.  2,  205  n.  1. 
Hiibuer,  7  u.  6. 
Huet,  318*. 

Hugo  of  St.  Victor,  199,  227  *ff. 
Huit,  76  n.  2. 
Humboldt,  A.,  281  n.  2. 
Hume,  6,  11,  156,  317,  417*  ff.,  435,445, 

537. 
Hussou,  487  u.  1. 
Hutcheson,  390*. 
Hnxley,  560  u.  1,  563  n.  3. 
Hylozoism,  597. 
Hypnotism,  bibliography  of,  608. 

Ib\-Topiiail,  216  n.  2. 

Idea,  Plato's,  81  ff. 

Idealism,  1  n.  1 ;  Augustine's,  125  f.; 
Berkeley's,  393  ff. ;  Greek,  75  ff . ;  Kant 
and,  473 ;  realism  and,  in  Middle 
Ages,  220  n.  1. 

Ideas,  Kant's  doctrine  of,  451  ff. 

Immanency,  1  n.  1,  233  f. 

Immortality,  Plato's  idea  of,  97  f. 

Induction,  Bacon's,  298  ff . 

Intellectual  intuition,  493. 

Intellectualism,  249  n.  1. 

Intelligible  character,  465. 

lonians,  21  ff. 

Isidore  of  Alexandria,  184  n.  1. 

Isidore  of  Sevilla,  200*. 

Israel,  A.,  278  n.  2. 


INDEX 


621 


JaCKSOX,  146  11.  1. 

Jacques,  108  ii.  ,5. 

Jacohi,  9  ii.  2,  473*   587. 

Janiblichus,  181*  f. 

James,  G06. 

Janimv,  240  ii.  2. 

Jauet,  Paul,  14,   15  n.  9,  344  u.  1,  496 

n.  3,  562  u.  4,  590  n.  8,  591*  n.  1,  608, 

609. 
Jauet,  Pierre,  608. 
Jaiisen,  322. 
Jebb,  258  ii.  2. 
Jerome,  196. 
Jevous,  581  n.  2,  605. 
Jewish-Greek  philosopliy,  163  ff. 
Jheriug,  608. 
JotU,  12  n.  2,  609. 
Joel,  K.,  65  n.  1,  78  u.  2. 
Joel,  M.,  210  n.  2. 
Johu  of  Damas,  200*. 
Jolin  of  Mercuria,  257*. 
John  of  Salisl)iiry,  227*. 
John  Pliilopouus,  199*. 
Joly,  320  u.  2. 
Jones,  542  n.  2. 
Jouffroy,  590*. 

Jourdain,  A.,  235  u.  1.  318  n.  8. 
Jourdaiu,  C,  241  ii.  2,  318  u.  7. 
Jowett,  104  u.  4. 
Jowett's  Plato,  76  n.  2. 
Junilt,  260  n   2. 

Jurisprudence,  hihi.iography  of,  611. 
Justin  the  Martyr,  186. 
Justinian,  184. 

Kai  TAN,  55  n.  2,  610. 

Kappes,  104  n.  4. 

Kant,  6,  17,45n.  1,51,  71,  101,249n.  1 
317,  369  n.  1,  378  n.  1,  397  n.  1,  431 
434*  ff.,  495,  537  ff.,  542  n.  2,  587 
597 ;  hi.s  aesthetics,  468  ff. ;  his  anti 
nomies,  456  ff. ;  his  critique  of  cosmo 
lojjical  arfrument,  461,  of  cosmolof^y 
456  ff.,  of  judgment,  468  ff.,  of  phy- 
sico  th(ologi<al  argument,  461  f.,  of 
practii'al  rea.son,  462  ff.,  of  psychi'l- 
ogv,  453  ff.,  of  pure  reason,  4'I7  ff., 
of  seiiHihility,  440  ff.,  of  understand- 
ing, 444  ff.  ;  his  doctrine  of  idciis,  4  14, 


451  ff.,  of  space  and  time,  440  ff. 
of  will  and  freedom,  463  ff.  ;  his 
ethics,  461  ff. ;  and  German  idealism, 
473  ff. ;  and  Hegel,  499  f. ;  his  prim- 
acy  of  practical  reason,  466  f. ;  his 
schematism,  477  ff . ;  and  his  succes- 
sors, 450  f. ;  liis  teleology,  468  ff. 

Karsten,  24  u.  2,  44  n.  1. 

Kaulich,  9  n.  2. 

Kedney,  496  u.  3. 

Kehrhacii,  434  n.  2,  535  u.  2. 

Kemp,  544  n.  3. 

Kenyou,  104  n.  4. 

Kepler,  160,  283* 

Kern,  25  n.  1. 

Keynes,  605. 

King,  Lord,  370  n.  1. 

Kirchhoff,  A.,  167  n    1,  607. 

Kirchmann,  15  n.  9,  32.'{  n.  1,  434  n.  2. 
583*  n.  1. 

Kircliuer,  C.  II.,  167  u.  1,  182  n.  1. 

Kirchuer,  F.,  15. 

Kleiher,  259  n.  2. 

Klett,  65  n.  1. 

Knight,  15  n.  9,  610. 

Knutzeu,  433*  n.  2. 

K61)er,  557  n.  1. 

Koch,  305  n.  1. 

Kochly,  63  n.  1. 

Konig,  12  n.  11,  606. 

Ivistlin,  8  n.  6,  496  u.  3,  609,  610, 

Koi)|),  184  n.  1,  199  n.  3. 

Krafft-Khing,  607,  603. 

Krause,  587  *f. 

Krauth,  392  u.  3. 

Krische,  21  n.  1,  148  n.  1. 

Kroeger,  481  n.  1. 

Krug,  473*. 

Kiihlenheck,  287  n.  2,  n.  3. 

Kiilpe,  607. 

Kurella,  12  n.  II,  606. 

Knssinaul,  607. 

Kvacsala,  278  n.  5. 

La  AS,  583*  n.  1. 
Lahriula.  63  n.  1 
Lachelier,  590*  n   7. 
Laciiniann,  7  n    1,  55  n   3. 
Lactantins,  9,  \x(\,  I'.Hi. 


622 


INDEX 


Ladd,  4,  542  n.  2,  606,  610. 

Laforet,  8  n.  6. 

L.tgarde,  286  n.  2. 

Lagrange,  11,  399  u.  1. 

Limarck,  563*,  565. 

Lambert,  433*  u.  2. 

Lameiinais,  589*. 

LaMettrie,  411*  f.,  317. 

Lamothe-Levayer,  274*. 

Lancelot,  322. 

Land,  320  u.  1,  323  n.  I. 

Lanfranc,  211*. 

Lange,  C,  606. 

Lange,  F.  A.,  11,  14,  410  ii.  7,  584*  f., 
605. 

Laugley,  344  n.  1. 

Laplace,  II,  51,  399  n.  1. 

Laromigiiiere,  590  n.  5. 

Lasalle,  33  u.  1,  296  n.  3. 

Lassou,  260  n.  2,  2S7  n.  1,  298  u.  2. 

Lasswitz,  12  n.  11,  437  u.  1. 

Laugel,  37  u.  2. 

Laureutius  Valla,  263*. 

Laiiret,  581  n.  2. 

Laurie,  8  n.  6,  9  u.  2,  608. 

Laveleye,  611. 

Lavoisier,  407  n.  2. 

Law,  278  u.  6. 

Lazarus,  542*  n.  2,  606. 

Leehler,  12  n.  11,  391  n.  3. 

Lecky,  9  n.  2,  12  u.  1,  609. 

Le  Cierc,  7  n.  2,  273  n.  3. 

Leferon,  239  n.  2. 

Leferriere,  140  n.  1. 

Letevre,  15. 

Lehmann,  607. 

Lehnerdt,  10  n.  1. 

Lehrs,  8  n.  6,  17  n.  1. 

Leibniz,  6,  11,  113  n.  3,  130  n.  .3,  291, 
293  n.  2,  343*  £f.,  370  n.  2,  372  n.  2, 
382,  386,  390,  404,  435,  456,  538,  591, 
594  ff. ;  and  Cartesianism,  353  ff. ;  and 
the  Cartesians,  346  ff. ;  his  determin- 
ism, 359  f.,  364  ff. ;  his  doctrine  of 
force,  346  ff. ;  his  doctrine  of  immor- 
tality, 353  f . ;  his  doctrine  of  pre-estab- 
lished harmony,  349  ff. ;  his  notion  of 
reciprocal  action,  3.)3  ff. ;  his  rational- 
ism, 363  f. ;  and  Ficlite,  366  ff. ;  and 


Spinoza,  359  ff. ;  his  theodicy,  360  ff. ; 
his  theory  of  knowledge,  366  f . ;  his 
theory  of  monads,  348  ff. ;  his  theory 
of  unconscious  perceptions,  345  f. ; 
WoltHau  philosophy  and,  433*  n.  2. 

Lemaire,  7  u.  1. 

Leo  X.,  264. 

Leontinus  Pilatus,  262. 

Lerou.x,  533  n.  1,  592  u.  2. 

Lessing,  369  u.  1,  433*  u.  2,  475. 

Leucippus,  55*. 

Le'vy-Bruhl,  473  u.  5. 

Lewes,  15,  104  u.  4,  581*  a.  3. 

Lewis,  607. 

L'Herbette,  574  u.  2. 

Liard,  55  u.  3,  606. 

Lieber,  611. 

Liebig,  298  u.  2. 

Liebnaann,  434  n.  1,  584  n.  2. 

Liebner,  227  u.  5. 

Liegeois,  608. 

Liepmanu,  55  u.  3. 

Lightfoot,  148  n.  1. 

Linde,  van  der,  323  n.  1. 

Lindner,  542  n.  2. 

Linnaeus,  564. 

Lioy,  611. 

Lipps,  600  n.  1,  606,  610. 

Lipsius,  185  n.  1,  274* 

Littre,  573  n.  2,  574*. 

Lobeck,  19  n.  3. 

Locke,  6,  11,  130  n.  3,  253,  317,  366, 
370*  ff.,  391  f. ;  his  faculties  of  uu. 
derstanding,  380;  his  idea  of  the  cer- 
titude of  knowledge,  387  ff. ;  his  de- 
nial of  innate  ideas,  372  ff. ;  and 
Leibniz,  366  ff. ;  his  simple  and  mixed 
modes,  382  ff. ;  his  nominalism,  385  ff. ; 
his  free  will,  381  f. ;  his  philosophy 
of  language,  384  f. ;  his  primary  and 
secondary  qualities,  378  ff. ;  his  doc- 
trine of  substance,  383  f. ;  his  simple 
and  complex  ideas,  376  ff. ;  his  theory 
of  space,  385  ff. 

Logic,  bibliography  of,  605  f. 

Lommatzsch,  7  n.  8. 

Long,  148  u.  1. 

Longinus,  166*. 

Lotze,  542*  n.  2,  588*   605,  606,  610. 


<?• 


INDEX 


623 


Lowe,  217  n.  2,  481  n.  l. 

Lijwenthal,  573. 

Lowndes,  305  n.  1. 

Lowndes,  M.,  606. 

Lowrey,  370  u.  2. 

Lubbock,  607. 

Lucas,  323  u.  1. 

Lucretius.  7,  55*   134  n.  1,  139. 

Ludovici,  369*  u.  1. 

Lullus,  Kayiuuudus,  9,  259*  2S7. 

Luptou,  199  n.  1. 

Lutliardt,  8  u.  6,  9  n.  2,  609. 

Luther,  276. 

Lutoslawski,  286  n.  2. 

Lyell,  564*  n.  1. 

Lyng,  5.33*  u.  1. 

Lyon,  301  u.  1,  398  n.  3. 


Macchiavklli,  264*  n.  2. 

Mackenzie,  609. 

Mackie,  344  n.  1. 

Mackintosh,  12  n.  11,  391  u.  2,  609 

Mucull,  148  n.  2. 

Magellan,  282. 

Magic,  265  ff. 

Maguin,  205  n.  2. 

Mahaff}',   8  n.  6,  12  n.  8,  305  n.  1,  435 

n.  3,  436  n.  1. 
Maiinon,  473*. 
Maimonides,  210  n.  2. 
Maine,  611. 

Maine  de  Biran.  589  n.  2,  590*.  601. 
Mainlriniler,  557*  n.  1. 
Malebranrhe,    11,    195,   ."ilS*    320*    f., 

.333,  370  n.  2,  391  f.,  398  n.  3. 
Mall'-t,  22  n.  1,  74  n.  2. 
Maniiani,  295  n.  1. 
Mandevillc,  414*. 
Mansel.  185  n.  1. 
Marcianus  Capella,  199*. 
Manns  Aurelius,  146  n.  1,  147,  148  n.  1. 
Mariano,  286  n.  2,  295  n.  1. 
Marinns.  182  n.  1,  184  n.  1. 
Marion,  370  n.  1. 
Marsh.'ill,  II.  R.,  610. 
.Mar'diall,  .!.,  8  n.  6.       • 
Mar-ilins  Ficinns,  see  Ficinun. 
MarHiliuM  of  Inghen,  256*. 


Martensen,  609. 

Martha,  151  u.  1. 

Martineau,  H.,  573  u.  2. 

Martiueau,  J.,  323  u.  1,  609. 

Martins,  563  n.  1. 

Massol,  467  u.  1. 

Masson,  55  u.  2,  562  u.  4. 

Materialism,  1  note  1  ;  cighteentli  cen 
tury,  404ff. ;  German,  560  ff. ;  Greek, 
55  "ff.,  75 ;  of  Ilobbcs,  301  f. ;  and 
sensationalism,  402  n.  2. 

Matter,  185  n.  1,  166  n.  3. 

Matter,  I'lato's  conception  of,  92  ff. 

Maudsley,  606. 

Manpertnis,  399*  n.  1. 

Maximus  the  Confessor,  199* 

Maxwell,  J.,  391  u.2. 

Mayer,  563*  u.  5. 

Mayor,  8  n.  6. 

Mayr,  399  u.  1. 

McCosh,  430  n.  3,  431  n.  3. 

Mechanism,  1  n.  1. 

MediiBval  philosuj)hy,  5,  185*  ff. ;  bibli- 
ography of,  9  ff.  and  notes. 

Megarians,  74*  f. 

Meiklojohn,  435  n.3. 

Meineke.  8  n.  3. 

Melancthon,  278. 

Melissns,  30*  f. 

Mendelssohn,  369  n.  1,  433*  n.  2. 

Menzies,  12  n.  11. 

Merz,  344  n.  1 . 

Me.slier,  411. 

Meyer,  324  n.  1. 

Meynert,  607. 

Michaud.  221  n.  1. 

Michclet,  12,  108  n.  3,  5.3.3*. 

-Middleman,  10  n.  1. 

Migne,  9  n.  1,  188  n.  1. 

.Vlignet,  487  n.  1. 

Mill,  J.  S.,  11,  431  n.  4,  573  n.  2,  574, 
5S1*  ff.,  605,  008. 

Miller,  611. 

Miller,  K.,  7  n.  9. 

.Millet,  305  n.  1. 

Minil,  5S6  n.  7. 

Minto,  605. 

Miral)aiid,  414. 

Miidcr;itns,  165. 


624 


INDEX 


Modern  philosophy,  286  if. ;  hibliogra- 

phy  of,  1 1  ff .  aud  uotes. 
MOller,  185  u.  1. 
Mohl,  611. 
Moleschott,  562* 
Moleswortli,  301  u.  I. 
Moll,  608. 
Mollet,  391. 
Mouad,  348  ff. 
Mouchamp,  317  n.  2. 
Monism,  1  u.  1,  560  ff.,  596  ff. ;  Plato's, 

101. 
Monist,  586  n.  7. 
Monrad,  12  u.  11,  533*  n.  1,  610. 
Moutaigiie,  273*  f.,  296  u.  3,  308,  322 

n.  1. 
Montesquieu,  11. 
Moutucia,  159  u.  1. 
Morgan,  L.,  560  n.  1,  607. 
Morgan,  T.,  391*  n.  3. 
Moriu,  467  n.  1. 

Morley,  104  n.  4,  399  n.  1,412  n.  2. 
Morris,  15  n.  9,  437  n.  1,  496  n.  3. 
Morselli,  609. 
Moser,  167  n.  1. 
Moulinie',  563  n.  3. 
Mijller,  H.,  76  n.  2,  318  n.  6. 
Miiller,  K.  O.,  8  n.  6. 
Miiller,  M.,  435  u.  3,  611. 
Miinsterberg,  606,  609. 
Muirhead,  15  n.  9. 
Mullach,  6  n.  1,  8  u.  6. 
Munck,  78  n.  1,  210  n.  2,  265  n.  1. 
Munro,  7  n.  1,  55  n.  2. 
Mysticism,  259  ff.,  493  n.  1  ;  medieval, 

227  ff. ;  Plato's,  91. 

Nahlowskt,  542*  n.  2. 

Napier,  284*. 

Natorp,  55  n.  3,  59  n.  1,  148  n.  2,  283 

n.  3,  305  n.  1. 
Natural  selection,  565  ff. 
Naturalism,  1  n.  1. 
Nature,  Plato's  doctrine  of,  91  ff. 
Naville,  180  n.  1,  589*,  590  n.  7. 
Neander,  9  n.  2,  185  n.  1,  188  n.  1. 
Nemours,  414  n.  4. 
Neo-Criticism,  573  ff. 
Neo-Kantians,  583  ff. 


Neo-Platouism,  167  *  ff.,  210  n.  2, 265  ff.. 

493,  596. 
Newman,  104  n.  4. 
Newton,  11,  306,  390*,  399  n.  1. 
Nichol,  296  n.  3. 
Nicholai,  369  n.  1,  433*  n.  2. 
Nicholas  of  Autricuria,  257*. 
Nicholas  of  Clemanges,  261*. 
Nicholas  of  Cusa,  10,  264*,  287. 
Nicole,  318*  322. 
Nicomachus,  165. 
Nietzsche,  557*  n.  1,  609. 
Noire',  560  n.  1. 
Nolen,  434  n.  2. 
Nolte,  241  n.  2. 
Nominalism,     240,     252  ff.  ;  and    the 

Church,   255;    and    Realism,   219  ff. 
Nominalists  and  Realists,  203. 
Notion,  Hegel's  doctrine  of,  508  ff. 
Nourrisson,  14,  344  n.  1. 
Novaro,  320  n.  2. 
Numenius,  165. 

Objective   and  Subjective  in  Middle 

Ages,  220  n.l. 
Occam,  252, 389. 
Oersted,  495. 
Oettingen,  609. 
Ogereau,  140  n.  1. 
Oken,  495. 

Olle-Laprune,  320n.  2. 
Oman,  587  n.  2. 
Ontological     Argument,     Auselmus's, 

217;   Descartes's,  310  f. ;   Kant's  cri 

tique  of,  461. 
Ontology,  1  u.  1. 
Oordt,  Van,  76  n.  2- 
Opel,  278  n.  2. 
Orelli,  76n.  2. 
Origan,  7,  9,  187*  191. 
Orpheus,  1,  9. 
Oswald,  431*. 
Oxenford,  296  n.  3 

Palet,  391*  n.  2. 
Panietius,  147. 
Panentlieism,  588. 
Panlogism,  249  n.  1. 
Pantheism,  1  n.  1,  233  f.,  597. 


ct 


INDEX 


625 


Panthelism,  249  a.  1. 

Panzerbieter,  5.3  n.  3. 

Paracelsus,  267*. 

Parmenides,  5,  26*  ff.,  74  f .,  335,  538,  596. 

Parthey,  181  u.  1. 

Pascal,  306, 322*,  463. 

Pater,  76  n.  2. 

Patrick,  33u.  1. 

Patristic,  185ff. 

Patrizzi,  273*. 

Paul,  Kegan,322n.  1. 

Paulsen,  4,  1 2  u.  11 ,  1 5  u.  9,  !  7  n.  2, 434 

n.  2,  588*  n.  8,  609. 
Paulus,  323  n.  I. 
Pearson,  140  n.  2. 
Peip.  278  n.  6. 
Pelagianisiii,  248  f. 
Pelagians,  197. 
Pellissier,  263  n.  1. 
Perez,  607. 

Peripateticism,  210  n.  2,  235  £f.,  597. 
Peripatetics,  105,  267  ff. 
Perry,  12  n.  11. 
Pesciiel,  10  M.  1,  281  n.  2,  607. 
Peter  the  Lombard,  9,  232*  f.,  239. 
Peter  the  Venerable,  223. 
Peters,  104  n.  4. 
Petrarch,  262. 
Peyron,  44  n.  1. 
Pfleiderer,  E.,  33  n.  1,  320  n.  1,  344  u.  1, 

437  n.  1. 
Pfleiderer,  0.,  9  n.  2,  12  n.  U,  610. 
Phado,  75. 
Phelps,  12  n.  11. 

Phenomenon,  Kant's  definition  of,  449  f. 
Pherecydes,  19,38. 
Philo,  163*  f. 
Philolau.-^,  37. 

Philosophical  .Journal.'?,  15  n.  9. 
Photius,  8,  200*. 
Physico-tlieological  argument,    Kaut'8 

critique  of,  461  f. 
Pico,  265*,  272. 
Pierron,  104  n  4. 
Pillr.n,  320  n.  2,  584*  n.  }. 
Pindar,  19. 
Platner,  4.33*  n.  2. 
Plato,  5  f.,  46  n.  2, 50,  65,  70,  75  *  ff..  105, 

109,  112,134,150  l>r5  (1,385,  t.lOu.  2, 


451  n.3,491  ;;.5,  493  n.  1,538,594  ff. ; 
his  ethics.  9S  ff. ;  antl  geometry,  80  f. ; 
his  uiytlis,  79 ;  his  piiilosopiiy  of 
nature,  91  ff. ;  his  doctriue  of  pro- 
e.xisteuce,  98  ;  his  rationalism,  89  ff. ; 
his  psyciiology,  97  f. ;  iiis  realism,  82 
ff.,  101  ff. ;  his  teleology,  95  ff . ;  hie 
theulogv,  88  f. ;  his  theory  of  state, 
99  ff.     " 

Platonic  .\cademy  in  Florence,  263  f. 

Platoiiisin.  Christian,  185  ff.;  and  medi- 
a.'val  I'eripateticism,  235  ff. ;  and  Scho- 
histicisiii,  219  ff. 

Pletiio,  203*  267. 

Plinv,  139. 

Plotiiius,  7,  46  u.  2,56,  91,  167*  ff.,  347, 
493  u.  1,  496  n.  2  ;  ids  ethics,  176  ff. ; 
his  tlieology,  168  ff. ;  liis  theory  of 
emanation,  171  ff. ;  his  tlieory  of  intel- 
lect, soul,  and  body,  171  ff. 

Pluralism,  596  ff. 

Plutarch,  7,  166*. 

Polemo,  104,  140. 

Politics,  bibliography  of,  611. 

Pollock,  323  n.  1,  611. 

Pompey,  147. 

Pomponatius,  10,  268*  ff. 

Porphyry,  7,  37  u.  2,  167,  179  *  f.,  200. 

Porta,' 271*. 

Porter,  462  n.  2,  609. 

Port-Royalists,  318  n.  8,  322  n.  1. 

Posidonius,  147. 

Positivism,  1  n.  1,  573*  ff. ;  critique  of, 
592  ff. 

Prantl,  14,  15  u.  9, 106  n.  2, 146  u.  1,  106 
n.  2,  199  n.  5,  53.3*,  606. 

Pre-existence,  Plato's  doctrine  of,  9rt. 

Preger,  227  n.  5. 

Preller.  6  n.  1.  8  n.  6, 17  n.  I. 

Pre8sens(5,  9  n.  2. 

Pre'vost,  305  n.  3. 

Pn-vost-I'aradol,  273  n.  3. 

Preyer,  607. 

Prie.stley,  407*  ff. 

Primary  (|u:i!itic.H,  404,  4.30;  and  second 
ary  <|ii.iliti(M,  37s  f..  392. 

Probaliilisin,  (iriM-k,  J  59. 

Prochw,  8,  182»  f..  1H4  n.  I. 

Pruta-oKW.  5,  59*  ff  ,  CO,  71,  158 


Y 


626 


INDEX 


ff.  ; 

610. 

and 
120 


I'rotois,  232  n.  2. 
rroudhon,  467  n.  1,  533  ii    1. 
Psychiatry,  bibliograpliy  of,  607  f. 
Psychology,   bibliography  of,    006 

Kant's  critique  of,  453  ff. 
Ptolemy,  160  f. 
Puchta^ll. 

Punjer,  12  n.  11,  462  n.  2,573  n.  2, 
Pyrrho,  149*  308,  378  n.  1. 
Pyrrhonism,  148  ff. 
Pytliagoras,    20,   38*  ff.,     56,    69  ; 

"Biuldha,  38  n.  1. 
Pythagoreans,  37*  ff.,  75,  80,  95  f., 
n.  2,  160. 


QuADRiviUM,  200  n.  2. 


Ramus,  10,  277  *  f. 

Kanke,  607. 

Ectspe,  344  n.  1. 

nationalism,  1  n.  1. 

Raiiweuhoff,  610. 

Ravaisson,  108  n.  3,  140  n.  I,  146  n.  1, 
590*  n.  7,  601. 

Pawley,  W.,  296  n.  3. 

Raymond  of  Sabunde,  259*. 

Ravmundus  Lullus,  9,  259  *,  287. 

Realism,  1  n.  1,  240;  Plato's,  82  ff . ; 
Platonic,  101  ff.  ;  and  idealism  in 
Middle  Ages,  220  n.  1 ;  and  nominal- 
ism, 219*  ff. ;  and  nominalists,  203. 

Reciprocal  action,  Hegel's  doctrine  of, 
507  f. 

Redepenning,  7  n.  8,  15  n.  1. 

Re'e,  608. 

Reformation,  274  ff. 

Regius,  Sylvain,  318. 

Reichel,  8  n.  6. 

Reicke,  7  n.  4,  434  n.  2. 

Reid,  11,  430*  f.,  587,  591;  and  cau- 
sality, 432  n.  2. 

Reimarus,  369  n.  1,  433*  n.  2. 
Reinach,  78  n.  2. 
Reinhold,  474,*475. 
Rein-ivald,  233. 

Religion,  bibliography  of  philosophy 
of,  610  f.;  origin  of,  17  n.  2. 


Remusat,  12  n.   11,  211  n.  4,  222  n.   7, 

296  n.  3. 
Kcuaissance,  261  ff. ;   bibliograpliy  of, 

10  n.  1. 
Henan,  148  n.  1,  210  n.  2,  586. 
Kenouvier,  14,  584*  n.  1. 
Re'thore,  399  n.  2. 
Retrogression  in  evolution,  567. 
Keuchlin,  265*  318  n.  8. 
Renter,  9  n.  2. 

Keville,  15  n.  1,  163  n.  1,  610. 
Hevue  positive,  574  n.  1 ;  philosophique, 

586  n.  7. 
Riaux,  296  u.  3. 
Kibbeck,  148  u.  1. 
Kibot,  535  n.  2,  542  u.  2,  544  n.  1,   581 

n.  3,  584,  5S6*  u.  7,  608. 
Richard  of  St.  Victor,  230  *  f. 
Richardson,  8  n.  6. 
Kichter,  163  u.  1,  167  n.  1. 
Uiehl,  434  n.  2. 
Ritchie,  609. 
Ritschl,  9  u.  2. 
Ritter,  6  n.  1,  8  u.  6,  9  n.  2,  12,  14,  21 

n.  1,  37  n.  2 ;  and  Preller,  8  n.  8. 
Rivista  di  filosofia,  586  n.  7. 
Rixner,  267  n.  1. 
Robert  of  Lincoln,  236. 
Robert  of  Melun,  231*  f. 
Robert  Pulleyn,  232  *. 
Robertsc»i,  104  n.  4,  301  n.  1. 
Roberty,  12  n.  11. 
Robinet,  412*,  565. 
Roth,  4,  8  n.  6,  473  n.  6. 
Rohde,  8  n.  6. 
Rolph,  608. 
Roman  Stoicism,  147. 
Romanes,  560  n.  1,  607. 
Rondel,  134  n.  1. 
Roscellinus,  220  *  ff.,  389. 
Rose,  104  n.  4. 
Rosenkranz,  412  n.  2,  434  n.  2,  487  n.  1, 

496  n.  3,  533  *. 
Rosmini-Serbate,    104   n.   4,  295   n    I, 

590*. 
Roussellot,  9  n.  2. 
Rovce,  12  n.  11,  497  n.  1. 
Royer-Collard,  590  *. 
Rumelin,  609. 


<> 


INDEX 


627 


Ruuze,  609. 
Russel,  371  u.  2. 
Ruysbroek,  230  u.  2. 

Sainte-Bkive,  318  n.  8. 

Saiut-Germaiu,  305  u.  1. 

Saint-Hilaire,  B.,  104  u.  4,  108  n.  3. 

Saint-IIilaire,  G.,  565. 

8t.  Johu,  370  n.  1. 

St.  Martha,  200  u.  1. 

St.  Martin,  278  u.  6. 

St.  Paul,  147,  177  n.  2,  178  n.  2,  194. 

St.  Reue  Taillaudier,  205  ii.  1. 

Saiut-Simon,  574  u.  2. 

Saiutes,  323  n.  1,  434  n.  2. 

Saiutsbury,  273  n.  3. 

Saisset,  153  u.  2,  317  n.  2,  323  n.  1,  434 
u.  2. 

Salzinf!;er,  259  n.  1. 

Sauchez,  274*. 

Sauuders,  544  u.  5. 

Saussaye,  Chautepie  de  la,  610. 

Scaliger,  271  *. 

Scepticism,  1  n.  1,  253  ;  Greek,  148*  ff. 

Sce{)tics,  537. 

Schaarschinidt,  37  n.  2,  76  n.  2,  78  u.  1, 
227  n.  3,  305  n.  1,  323  n.  1,  324  u.  2. 

Schaffle,  611. 

Schaff,  185  n.  1. 

Schaller,  12  n.  11. 

Schanz,  59  n.  1,  76  n.  2. 

Seharj)ff.  264  n.  1. 

Schauliacii,  48  n.  2. 

Schelliiig,  11,  91,  170  n.  1,  195,  264  n.  1, 
482  n.  1,  487*  ff.,  601  ;  aud  Fichte, 
488  ff. ;  and  Hegel,  498  f. ;  liis  nega- 
tive philosophy,  488  ff.;  his  positive 
philosopliy,  494  f. 

Scherer,  496  n.  3,  586*. 

Schiehler,  278  n.  6. 

Scliiller,  474*. 

Schleicher,  500  n.  1. 

Schleiden,  474  n.  1. 

Schloierniaclur,  22  n.  1,  23  n.  1,  33  n.  1, 
53  n.  3, 70  n.  2,  78  n.  1 ,  322  ii.  1 ,  587  *. 

Schluter,  205  n.  1. 

Schinckel,  140  n.  I,  148  n.  1. 

Kchinid,  R.,  500  n.  1. 
Scliiiiidt,  C,  234  n.  I,  261  n.  4. 


Schmidt,  F.  X.,  277  n.  2. 

Schmidt,  L.,  8  n.  0,  609. 

Schmidt,  O.,  5G0  u.  1. 

Schnuihlers,  210  u.  2. 

Schneider,  Ch.,  76  n.  2. 

Schneider,  G.  H.,  607. 

Schneider,  J.  G.,  6  u.  2,  133  n.  1. 

Schneidewiu,  7  n.  9. 

Schoenhmk,  406  n.  2. 

Schohisticisni,  201  *  ff.,  297. 

Scholten,  15,  610. 

Schoohnen, 201  ff. 

Schools,  201. 

Scliopeniiauer,  11,46,  113  n.  3,  192  u.  i, 

249,  n.  1,  322  n.  1,  445,  491  u.  3,  544* 

ff.,  594  ff.,  601 ;  his  pessimism,  552  ff. ; 

liis  relation  to  other  systems,  545  ff.  ; 

his  school,  556  ff. 
Schorn,  48  n.  2,  53  n.  3. 
Schreiber,  253  n.  2. 
Scliubert,  F.  W.,  434  n.  2. 
Schubert,  G.  H.,  495. 
Schulcr,  277  n.  1. 
Schuller,  324  n.  1. 
Schultess,  8  n.  6. 
SchuUliess,  277  a.  I. 
Schultze,  263  n.  1. 
Schulze,  473*,  544. 
Schuppe,  605,  608. 
Schurer,  163  n.  1. 
Schurman,  434  n.  2,  462  n.  2,  5G0  n.  1, 

609,610. 
Schwarz,  606. 

Schwcgler,  8  n.  6,  14,  108  u.  3. 
Schweighiiusur,  148  u.  1. 
Science,  Greek,  159  ff. ;   modern,  281  ff. 
Scotcii  i)liilosopliy,  430*  ff. 
Scotus  Duns,  .see  Duns. 
Scotus  Krigena,  sre  Krigena. 
Secn'tan,  496  u.   1,  556  n.  1,  589*.  592 

n.  2,001. 
Sedail,  296  n.  3. 
Seleucus,  100. 

Seneca,  7,  140  n.  1,  147,  148  n.  1,  225. 
Sensationalism,  and    materialism,    402 

n.  2  ;  and  scei)ticiiim,  152  ff. 
Sc])p,  14H  n.  2. 
Sergi,  006. 
1  Servet,  284. 


628 


INDEX 


Seth,  A.,  12  n.  11,  496  n.  8. 

Seth,  J.,  609. 

Sextus  Empiricus,  7,  153,  158*  f.,  308. 

Seydel,  544  u.  1. 

Shaftesbury,  390*. 

Shedd,  211  u.  4. 

Sibree,  497  n.  5. 

Sidgwick,  A.,  605. 

Sidgwick,  H.,  15  n.  9,  59  n   1,  608,  609, 

611. 
Siebeck,  15  n.  9,  59  n.  1,  63  n.  i,  78  u.  1, 

608,  610. 
Sieber,  267  n.  1. 
Sighart,  240  n.  2. 
Sigwart,  Chr.,  15  n.  9,  267  n.  2,  298  n.  2, 

324  n.  2,  605,  609. 
Simmel,  609,  611. 
Simon,  J.,  108  n.   3,  166  u.  3,  182   n.  1, 

305  n.  1,  318  n.  7,  320  n.  2. 
Simon,  T,  C.,392u.  5. 
Simon  of  Tournay,  234. 
Simplicius,  184. 
Smith,  A.,  391* 
Smith,  M.,  536  n.  2. 
Smith,  W.,  481  n.  1. 
Smyth,  609. 

Sneath,  15  n.  9,  4.30n.  3. 
Socher,  78  n.  1. 
Socrates,  6,  6.3*  ff.,  71,  75,   80,   82,  150, 

537. 
Socratic  schools,  71*ff. 
Solon,  19. 

Sommer,  H.,  344  n.  1. 
Sommer,  R.,  369  n.  1. 
Sophists,  59*  ff.,  80. 
Sophocles,  19. 

Space,  Kant's  doctrine  of,  440  ff. 
Spedding,  296  n.  3. 
Spencer,  7  n.  8. 
Spencer,  H.  11,  560  n.  1,  581*  ff.,  606, 

607,  608,  611. 
Spengel,  563n.  2. 
Speusippus,  103*  f. 

Spinoza,  6,  52,91,  192  n.  1,  220  n.  1,32.3* 
ff.,  347  f.,  359,  382,  .391  f.,  394  n.  1, 
455,  462,465,492  n.  1,  495,499,  .538  f., 
542  n.  2. ;  his  definitions,  325  f. ;  and 
Descartes,  326  f.  ;  his  determinism, 
335  f. ;  and  Leibniz.  359  ff . ;  and  ma- 


terialism,  333  ;    his  method,  324  f. ; 

his  pantheism,  326  ff.  ;  his  theology, 

326    ff. ;    his    theory    of    attributes, 

329  ff. ;  his  theory  of  modes,  334  ff . ; 

his  theory  of   passions,  338   ff.  ;  hia 

theory  of  substance,  326  ff. 
Spiritualism,   1    n.    1,   587  ff.,   590  ff. ; 

Berkeley's,  393  ff.;  Greek,  75  ff. 
Stadler,  468  u.  1. 
Stallbaum,  76  u.  2. 
Stanley,  13. 
Starr,  608. 
Steffens,  495. 

Stein,  H.,  44  n.  1,  71  n.  1,  610. 
Stein,  L.,  140  n.  1,  142  u.   1,  324  n.   1, 

344  n.  1,  345  n.  1. 
Steiner,  544  n.  1. 
Steinthal,  542*  n.  2,  606,  608. 
Stephen,  L.,  12  n.  11,  390  n.  2,  608. 
Sterrett,  497  n.  4. 
Stewart,  A.,  12  n.  11. 
Stewart,  D.,  431* 
Stich,  148  n.  1. 
Stilpo,  75,  140. 
Stirling,    437    n.    1,    496    n.    3,    533* 

n.  1. 
Stobaeus,  8. 
Stockl,  9  n.  2. 
Stoicism,  69,  74,  75,  140*  ff.,  597  ;  and 

Christianity,  147. 
Stoics,  491  a.  5. 
Strato,  133. 
Strauss,  399  n.  1,  533*    560  n.  1,  562* 

566  ff. 
Strumpell,  542*  n.  2. 
Strufrgle  for  existence,  565  ff. 
Stumpf,  606. 
Sturz,  19  n   2. 
Suarez,  203*  n.  1. 
Subjective    and    objective    in     Middle 

Ages,  220  n.  1. 
Suckow,  78  n.  1. 
Suidas,  8. 

Sully,  544  n.  1,  557  n.  1,  606,  607. 
Supranaturalism,  1  n.  1. 
Survival  of  fitte.st,  566  ff. 
Susemihl,  78  n.  1,  140  n.  1. 
Symonds,  10  n.  1. 
Synthetic  judgments,  438  ff. 


(y 


INDEX 


629 


Taise,  581  u.  3,  586*.  592  n.  2,  610. 

Talaiiio,  201  n.  3. 

Tauueiy,  305  n.  J. 

Tarde,  611. 

Tatian,  187. 

Tauk-r,  261*. 

Taurellus,  10,  277*  f. 

Tavlor,  167  n.  1,  181  u.  1. 

Taylor,  T.  W.,  611. 

Tciiihatchef,  298  n.  2. 

Teichmiiller,  8  n.  6,  21  n.  1,  33  n.  1,  78 
n.  1. 

Teleology,  1  n.  1,  564,  566  ff.  ;  of  Kaut, 
468  S.]  of  Plato,  95  £C. ;  and  Atom- 
ism, 95. 

Telesio,  273*  287. 

Temple,  296  n.  3. 

Teuuemaun,  13. 

TertuUian,  186,  196,463. 

Teteiis,  433*  n.  2. 

Teuffel,  8  n.  6. 

Thales,  5,  20,  21*  f. 

Theism,  1  d.  1. 

Theodoras,  72*. 

Theodorus  of  Gaza,  263,  267. 

Theognis,  19. 

Theophrastus,  133. 

Theo.sophy,  265  £f.,  277  ff. 

Thilly,  4  n.  1,344  n.  1. 

Thilo,  542*  n.  2. 

Theologv,  Plato's,  88  f. ;  Kant's  Critique 
of. 

Things  in  themselves,  71,  444,  447,  ff. ; 
Beck's  rejection  of,  477  n.  1  ;  Fichte 
and,  484;  Kant's,  451  ff. ;  Schopen- 
hauer and,  545 ;  Schulze's  critique  of, 
473  n.  3. 

Thoma-s  236,  584  n.  4. 

Thomas  of  Aquin,  9,  202,  241*  ff. ; 
his  determinism,  245  f. 

Thomas  of  IJradwardine,  256*. 

Thomas  a  Kempis,  261*. 

Thomas  of  Straslturg,  256*. 

Thiimming,  369*  n.  1. 

Tiherghien,  587*  n.  4. 

Tiedemann,  13,  140  u.  1. 

Tifdf,  610. 

Tille,  .557  n.  1, 

Time,  Kant's  <Ioctrino  of,  440  ff. 


Timocharus,  161. 

Timon,  149*  f.,  152. 

Tiudall,  391*  n.  3. 

Tissot,  322  n.  1. 

Titcheuer,  586  n.  3,  607 

Tocco,  286  n.  2. 

Toland,    391*  u.  3 ;   his   materialism, 

405*  f. 
Tonnies,  301  u.  1,  609. 
Torquatus,  L.,  139. 
Torrey,  H.,  305  u.  1. 
Torrey,  J.,  185  n.  1,  188  n.  1. 
Tracy,  607. 

Transcendentalism,  1  n.  1. 
Trendelenburg,  15  n.  9,  106  n.  2,  588*. 
Trezza,  133  n.  1. 
Trivium,  200  n.  2. 
Tufts,  15  n.  9,  468  n.  1. 
Turgot,  414*. 
Twardowski,  305  n.  1. 
Twesteu,  587  n.  2. 
Tycho  Brahe,  283* 
Tyler,  607. 
Tyndall,  563*  n.  5. 

Ueberweg,  14,  78  n.  1,  392  n.  5,  605. 

Ulrici,  496  n.  3,  588*. 

Unconscious,  Leibniz's  doctrine  of  the, 

345  f. 
Universals,  219  f. 
Usener,  133  n.  1. 

Vacherot,  166  n.  3,  .5.33*  n.  1. 

Vaihinger,  437  u.  1,  557  n.  1. 

Valat,  59  n.  1. 

Valois,  239  n.  2. 

Vanini,  272*. 

\'asco  de  Gama,  282. 

\'eitch,  305  n.  1,  4:51  n.  4,  605. 

Venn,  605. 

Vera,  496  n.  3,  515  n.  1,  533*  n.  1. 

Vesale,  284*. 

Vicajcc,  318  n.  7. 

Vico,  295*  n.  1. 

Victorines,  227  ff. 

Victo,  284*  300. 

Villers,  434  n.  2. 

Vincent  of  Hoauvais,  239*  f. 

Vinci,  Leonanio  di,  284*. 


630 


INDEX 


Vinet,  322  n.  1. 
Virchow,  563  n.  4,  586* 

Viseli,  231  n.  2. 

Vischer,  610. 

Vitringa,  59  u.  1. 

Vlooteu,  Vau,  324  u.  2,  323  n.  1. 

Vogt,  562,  563  u.  3. 

Voigt,  10  n.  1. 

Volkelt,  4,  437  n.  1,  557  n.  1. 

Volkinauu,  R.,  166  u.  1,  542-  n.  2. 

Volkniaiiu,  W.,  606. 

Voluey,  590*  n.  5. 

Voltaire,  399*. 

Vohmtarism,  249  u.  1,  601  ft. 

Vorliluder,  12  n.  11,  609. 

Wace,  185  n.  1. 

Wachsmiith,  149  u.  2. 

AVaddiugton,  148  n.  2,  277  n.  3. 

Wagner,  A.,  286  n.  2. 

Wagner,  R.,  557*  n.  1. 

Waitz,  542*  n.  2,  607. 

Wallace,  A.  R.,  560  n.  I. 

Wallace,  E.,  104  n.  4. 

Wallace,  W.,  133  n.  1,  496  u.  3,  497  u.  3, 

533*  n.  1,  544  n.  1. 
Walter,  8  n.  6,  167  n.  1. 
Walter  of  St.  Victor,  233,  260. 
Watson,  148  n.  1,  435  n.  3,  437  n.  1, 

487  n.  1,  533*  n.  1,  573  n.  2. 
Weber,    147  n.  4,   495  n.  1,   501  n.  2, 

601  n.  5. 
Weigel,  278*. 
Weismann,  560  n.  1. 
Weisse,  588*. 
Welldon,  104  n.  4. 
Wendland,  163  n.  1. 
Weudt,  71  n.  1. 

Werner,   9   n.    2,   241    u.   1,   241    n.  3 
258  n.  3. 

Wessel,  261*. 

Westermarck,  61 1 . 

Weygoldt,  140  n.  1. 

Wharton,  104  n.  4. 

Whewell,  12  n.  11,  391  n.  2,  609. 

White,  323  n.  1. 

Wiclif,  359. 

Wilbour,  586  n.  5, 

Wildauer,  63  n.  1. 


Will,  600  ff . 

William  of  Auvergne,  239*. 

William  of  C'hampeaux,  221*  ff.,  235. 

William  (.,f  Conches,  226*  f. 

William  Durand,  253*. 

William  of  Occam,  253*  f. 

Williams,  104  n.  4,  609. 

Willm,  12. 

Willmaun,  15  n.  9,  535  n.  2. 

Wilson,  608. 

Wimmer,  133  n.  1. 

Winckelmanu,  76  n.  2. 

Windelband,  8  u.  6,  10. 

Wirth,  588*. 

Witte,  608,  473  n.  7. 

Wolff,  163  n.  1,  368*  f.,  435. 

World-Soul,  riato's,  94  f. 

Worms,  323  n.  1. 

Wundt,  586*    600  u.  1.,  601,  605,   600, 

608,  609. 
Wyttenbach,  167  n.  1. 

Xenocrates,  104,  140. 
Xeuophanes,  20,  24*  ff. 
Xeuophon,  6,  65,  67. 

Zabarella,  271*. 

Zahn,  140  n.  1,  185  n.  1. 

Zeitschrift  fiir  exacte  Philosophic, 
542  n.  2. 

Zeitschrift  fiir  Philosophic,  542  n.  2, 
588  n.  3. 

Zeitschrift  fiir  wissenschaftliche  Phi- 
losophic, 588  u.  7. 

Zeitschrift  fiir  Volkcrkunde,  542  n.  2. 

Zcller,  4,  8  n.  6,  12,  15  n.  9,  19  n.  1, 
78  n.  1,  148  n.  1,  277  n.  1,  368  n.  1, 
462  n.  2,  533*   565  n.  3,  608. 

Zeno  the  Eleatic,  31*  f.,  335. 

Zeno  the  Stoic,  5,  74,  140*  ff.,  151. 

Zenodotus,  184  n.  1. 

Ze'vort,  48  n.  2,  104  n.  4. 

Ziegler,  8  n.  6,  9  n.  2,  226  n.  2,  609. 

Ziehen,  607,  608. 

Zimmer,  481  n.  1. 

Zimmerman,  542*  n.  2. 

Zimmern,  544  n.  1. 

Zwingli,  276  f. 


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